BOOK    398.2.F718   v.  1  -  2    c.  1 

FOLK    LORE    AND    LEGENDS    GERMANY    #    F 

OLK    LORE    AND    LEGENDS    GERMANY 


3    T1S3    DD12M20T    0 


::^ 


mi 


Joseph  M^Aleekan 


//A  i^ 


X 


/ 


F^OLK-LORE    .p^^ 

AND  \  C  "^ 

LEGENDS  ' M^ 


GERMANY 


r}^ 


J.    B.    LIPPINCOTT   COMPANY 

PHILADELPHIA- 

1892 


'1^ 


\ 


PEEFATORY  NOTE 


V 


It  is  proposed  that  this  shall  be  the  first  of  a 
series  of  little  volumes  in  which  shall  be  pre- 
sented in  a  handy  form  selections  from  the 
Folklore  and  legends  of  various  countries.  It 
has  been  well  said  that  "the  legendary  history 
of  a  nation  is  the  recital  of  the  elements  that 
formed  the  character  of  that  nation ;  it  contains 
the  first  rude  attempts  to  explain  natural 
phenomena,  the  traditions  of  its  early  history, 
and  the  moral  principles  popularly  adopted  as 
the  rules  for  reward  and  punishment;  and 
generally  the  legends  of  a  people  may  be 
regarded  as  embodying  the  popular  habits  of 
thought  and  popular  motives  of  action."  The 
following  legends  of  Germany  cannot,  we  think, 
fail  to  interest  those  who  read  them.  Some  of 
the  stories  are  invested   with  a   charming  sim- 


VI  PREFATORY  NOTE. 

plicity  of  thought  which  cannot  but  excite  ad- 
miration. Others  are  of  a  weird,  fantastic 
character  fitted  to  a  laud  of  romantic  natural 
features,  of  broad  river,  mountain,  and  deep 
forest.  The  humorous,  the  pathetic,  the  terrible, 
all  find  place  in  the  German  folk-tales,  and  it 
would  be  difficult  to  rise  from  their  perusal 
without  havin£[  received  both  amusement  and 
instruction.  The  general  lesson  they  convey  is 
the  sure  punishment  of  vice  and  the  reward 
of  virtue ;  some  way  or  another  the  villain 
always  meets  with  his  desert.  In  future  volumes 
we  shall  deal  with  the  legends  of  other  countries, 
hoping  that  the  public  will  bear  us  company 
in  our  excursions. 


CONTENTS 


Gaffer  Death,      . 

, 

PAGE 
1 

The  Legend  of  Paracelsus, 

. 

6 

Hans  in  Luck,    . 

. 

9 

The  Grey  INIare  in  the  Garret, 

. 

17 

The  Water  Spirit, 

. 

21 

Peter  Klaus, 

. 

31 

The  Legend  of  Rheineck, 

36 

The  Cellar  of  the  Old  Knights 

n  the  Kyffhauser, 

48 

The  Fisherman  and  his  Wife, 

. 

53 

The  Mouse  Tower, 

. 

62 

The  Dancers, 

. 

66 

The  Little  Shroud, 

. 

70 

The  Arch  Rogue, 

. 

72 

Brother  Merry,  . 

82 

Fastrada, 

. 

100 

The  Jew  in  the  Bush,    . 

. 

104 

The  Elves, 

. 

110 

The  Conclave  of  Corpse^. 

114 

Vlll 


CONTEXTS. 


Legends  of  Rubezahl,  oi 

'  Number-Nip, 

PAGE 

120 

The  Hunter  Hackelnberg  and  the  Tut-Osel,    , 

131 

TheAlraun,        .             .             . 

136 

The  Goose-Girl, 

140 

Hans  Jagenteufel, 

149 

The  Waits  of  Bremen, 

.       152 

The  Flaming  Castle, 

.      158 

The  Monks  at  the  Ferr} 

.      161 

Doctor  All- Wise, 

.      168 

The  White  Maiden, 

.      172 

INTRODUCTION 

The  value  of  national  stories  and  legends  has  in 
late  years  become  very  widely  recognised.  Folk- 
lore has  recently  received  a  large  amount  of  atten- 
tion, and  the  thought  and  labour  bestowed  upon 
the  subject  have  been  rewarded  by  results  which 
prove  that  its  investigators  have  entered  upon  no 
unfruitful,  however  long  neglected,  field. 

This  book,  and  its  successors  in  the  series  which 
it  is  proposed  to  issue,  may  come  into  the  hands  of 
some  who,  having  little  opportunity  afforded  them 
to  consider  how  the  legends  and  tales  it  contains 
may  be  of  the  value  we  claim  for  them,  may  be 
glad  to  have  the  "  case "  for  legends  and  national 
stories  presented  to  them  in  a  few  words. 

The  peasant's  tale,  the  story  preserved  through 
centuries  on  the  lips  of  old  wives,  the  narrative 
which  has  come  down  to  us  having  done  duty  as  a 
source  of  amusement  in  the  fireside  groups  of  pre- 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

ceding  generations,  may  seem  to  some  to  afford 
slight  matter  for  reflection,  and  may  even  appear 
so  grotesque  in  its  incidents  as  to  be  fitted  only  to 
excite  a  smile  of  wonder  at  the  simplicity  of  those 
among  whom  such  stories  could  obtain  reception, 
and  surprise  at  the  fantastic  imagination  in  which 
such  tales  could  find  their  origin.  Modern  thought 
has,  however,  been  busy  asking  itself  what  is  the 
meaning  of  these  stories,  and  it  has  done  much  to 
supply  itself  with  an  answer.  This,  at  least,  it  has 
done  :  it  has  discovered  that  these  legends  and  tales, 
which  so  many  have  been  inclined  to  cast  aside  as 
worthless,  are  of  a  singular  value,  as  throwing  a 
light  which  little  else  can  afford  upon  the  mind  of 
primitive  man.  At  first  the  collection  of  national 
stories  was  undertaken  merely  for  the  purpose  of 
afi'ording  amusement.  Folk-tales  were  diverting,  so 
they  found  their  way  into  print,  and  were  issued 
as  curious  literary  matter  fitted  to  supply  diversion 
for  a  vacant  hour.  Many  of  the  tales  are  very 
beautiful,  and  their  mere  literary  merit  sufficed  to 
make  them  sought  for.  But  legendary  lore  was 
soon  observed  to  possess  much  more  value  than 
could  attach  to  its  merely  amusing  features.  It 
was  obvious  that  in  these  legends  were  preserved 
the   fragments   of  the  beliefs   of  the  ancient   folk. 


INTRODUCTION.  XI 

"The  mythology  of  one  period,"  remarked  Sir 
Walter  Scott,  "would  appear  to  pass  into  the 
romance  of  the  next  century,  and  that  into  the 
nursery  tale  of  the  subsequent  ages."  "Fiction," 
said  Sir  John  Malcolm,  "  resolves  itself  into  its 
primitive  elements,  as,  by  the  slow  and  unceasing 
action  of  the  wind  and  rain,  the  solid  granite  is 
crumbled  into  sand.  The  creations  embodied  by 
the  vivid  imagination  of  man  in  the  childhood  of 
his  race  incorporate  themselves  in  his  fond  and 
mistaken  faith.  Sanctity  is  given  to  his  day- 
dreams by  the  altar  of  the  idol.  Then,  perhaps, 
they  acquire  a  deceitful  truth  from  the  genius 
of  the  bard.  Blended  with  the  mortal  hero, 
the  aspect  of  the  god  glances  through  the  visor 
of  the  helmet,  or  adds  a  holy  dignity  to  the 
royal  crown.  Poetry  borrows  its  ornaments  from 
the  lessons  of  the  priests.  The  ancient  god  of 
strength  of  the  Teutons,  throned  in  his  chariot 
of  the  stars,  the  Northern  Wain,  invested  the 
Emperor  of  the  Franks  and  the  paladins  who 
surrounded  him  with  superhuman  might.  And 
the  same  constellation,  darting  down  its  rays 
upon  the  head  of  the  long-lost  Arthur,  has 
given  to  the  monarch  of  the  Britons  the  venera- 
tion which   once  belonged   to    the  son  of   'Uthry 


Xll  INTEODUCTION. 

Bendragon,'  'Thunder,  the  supreme  leader,'  and 
*Eygyr,  the  generating  power.'  Time  rolls  on; 
faith  lessens;  the  flocks  are  led  to  graze  within 
the  rocky  circle  of  the  giants,  even  the  bones 
of  the  warriors  moulder  into  dust;  the  lay  is 
no  longer  heard;  and  the  fable,  reduced  again 
to  its  original  simplicity  and  nudity,  becomes 
the  fitting  source  of  pastime  to  the  untutored 
peasant  and  the  listening  child.  Hence  we  may 
yet  trace  no  small  proportion  of  mystic  and 
romantic  lore  in  the  tales  which  gladden  the 
cottage  fireside,  or,  century  after  century,  soothe 
the  infant  to  its  slumbers."  The  works  of  the 
brothers  Grimm,  the  appearance  of  the  Kinder- 
und-Raus-Mclhrchen,  in  1812,  and  of  the  Deutsche 
3fythologie,  in  1835,  threw  a  new  light  on  the 
importance  of  national  tales,  and  awoke  the 
spirit  of  scientific  comparison  which  has  made 
the  study  of  Folklore  productive  of  such  valuable 
results. 

With  regard  to  the  difi'usion  of  national  stories, 
it  is  remarkable  that  we  find  substantially  identical 
narratives  flourishing  in  the  most  widely  separated 
countries,  and  this  fact  has  given  rise  to  several 
explanatory  theories,  none  of  which  seems  perfectly 
satisfactory.      The    philological    discovery    of    the 


INTKODUCTION.  XIU 

original  unity  of  all  the  Aryan  races  may  account 
for  the  possession  by  the  Aryan  peoples  of  similar 
stories.  It  may  be,  as  Sir  George  Cox  suggests,  a 
common  inheritance  of  such  tales  as  were  current 
when  the  Aryans  "  still  lived  as  a  single  people." 
We  find,  however,  that  these  tales  are  also  current 
among  people  whom,  accepting  this  theory,  we 
should  least  expect  to  find  possessing  them,  and  so 
the  wide  difiusion  of  the  stories  yet  remains  un- 
satisfactorily accounted  for.  Identity  of  imagina- 
tion, inheritance,  transmission,  may  each  have  played 
its  part. 

As  to  the  origin  of  the  tales  much  debate  has 
arisen.  It  is  obvious  from  the  nature  of  the  inci- 
dents of  many  of  them  that  they  could  only  have 
originated  in  a  most  primitive  state  of  man. 
"Early  man,"  says  Sir  George  Cox,  "had  life, 
and  therefore  all  things  must  have  life  also.  The 
sun,  the  moon,  the  stars,  the  ground  on  which  he 
trod,  the  clouds,  storms,  lightnings  were  all  living 
beings;  could  he  help  thinking  that,  like  himself, 
they  were  all  conscious  beings  also  1"  Such,  accord- 
ing to  this  authority,  was  the  origin  of  primary 
myths,  secondary  and  tertiary  myths  arising  in  the 
course  of  time  from  the  gradual  misunderstanding 
of  phrases  applied  by  primitive  man  to  personified 


XIV  INTRODUCTION. 

objects.  According  to  Professor  Max  Miiller,  anim- 
ism, or  tlie  investing  all  things  with  life,  springs  not 
in  the  first  place  from  man's  thought,  but  from  the 
language  in  which  he  clothes  it.  Man,  he  says, 
found  himself  speaking  of  all  things  in  words  having 
"a  termination  expressive  of  gender,  and  this 
naturally  produced  in  the  mind  the  corresponding 
idea  of  sex."  He  thus  came  to  invest  all  objects 
T\dth  "something  of  an  individual,  active,  sexual, 
and  at  last  personal  character."  However  hard  it 
may  be  to  discover  the  reason  for  the  origin  of  the 
tendency  to  animism,  the  fact  is  certain  that  the 
tendency  is  to  be  found  generally  existing  among 
savage  peoples,  and  it  would  seem  that  we  must 
accept  the  national  stories  which  have  come  down 
to  us  embodying  this  tendency  in  grotesque  inci- 
dents as  relics  handed  down  from  the  savage  days 
of  the  people  with  whom  the  tales  originated,  as  the 
expression  of  portions  of  their  thought  when  they 
had  as  yet  only  attained  to  such  a  degree  of 
civilisation  as  exists  among  savages  of  the  present 
day. 

Strange  and  grotesque  as  some  of  the  national 
stories  are,  they  may  be  regarded  as  embodying 
the  fragments  of  some  of  man's  most  primitive 
beliefs;  and  recognising  this,  it  will  be  impossible  to 


INTRODUCTION.  XV 

dismiss  the  folk-tale  as  unworthy  of  careful  con- 
sideration, nor  may  it  be  regarded  as  unfitted  to 
afford  us,  if  studied  aright,  very  much  more  than 
merely  such  amusement  as  may  be  derived  from  its 
quaint  incident  and  grotesque  plot. 

C.  J.  T. 


GAFFEE  DEATH. 

There  was  once  a  poor  man  who  had  twelve  chil- 
dren, and  he  was  obliged  to  labour  day  and  night 
that  he  might  earn  food  for  them.  When  at  length, 
as  it  so  happened,  a  thirteenth  came  into  the  world, 
the  poor  man  did  not  know  how  to  help  himself, 
so  he  ran  out  into  the  highway,  determined  to 
ask  the  first  person  he  met  to  be  godfather  to  the 
boy. 

There  came  stalking  up  to  him  Death,  who  said — 

"  Take  me  for  a  godfather." 

"  Who  are  you  1 "  asked  the  father. 

"  I  am  Death,  who  makes  all  equal,"  replied  the 
stranger. 

Then  said  the  man — 

"  You  are  one  of  the  right  sort :  you  ceize  on  rich 
and  poor  without  distinction  ;  you  shall  be  the  child's 
godfather." 

Death  answered — 

"  I  will  make  the  boy  rich  and  renowned  through- 
out the  world,  for  he  who  has  me  for  a  friend  can 
want  nothing." 

A 


2  GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

Said  the  man — 

"  Next  Sunday  will  he  be  christened,  raind  and 
come  at  the  right  time." 

Death  accordingly  appeared  as  he  had  promised, 
and  stood  godfather  to  the  child. 

When  the  boy  grew  up  his  godfather  came  to 
him  one  day,  and  took  him  into  a  wood,  and 
said — 

"  Now  shall  you  have  your  godfather's  present.  I 
will  make  a  most  famous  physician  of  you.  When- 
ever you  are  called  to  a  sick  person,  I  will  take  care 
and  show  myself  to  you.  If  I  stand  at  the  foot  of 
the  bed,  say  boldly,  'I  will  soon  restore  you  to 
health,'  and  give  the  patient  a  little  herb  that  I  will 
point  out  to  you,  and  he  will  soon  be  well.  If, 
however,  I  stand  at  the  head  of  the  sick  person,  he 
is  mine ;  then  say,  '  All  help  is  useless ;  he  must 
soon  die.' " 

Then  Death  showed  him  the  little  herb,  and 
said — 

"Take  heed  that  you  never  use  it  in  ojDposition 
to  my  will." 

It  was  not  long  before  the  young  fellow  was  the 
most  celebrated  physician  in  the  whole  world. 

"  The  moment  he  sees  a  person,"  said  every  one, 
"he  knows  whether  or  not  he'll  recover." 

Accordingly  he  was  soon  in  great  request.  People 
came  from  far  and  near  to  consult  him,  and  they 
gave  him  whatever  he  required,  so  that  he  made  an 


GAFFER   DEATH.  3 

immense  fortune.  Now,  it  so  happened  that  the 
king  was  taken  ill,  and  the  physician  was  called 
upon  to  say  whether  he  must  die.  As  he  went  up 
to  the  bed  he  saw  Death  standing  at  the  sick 
man's  head,  so  that  there  was  no  chance  of  his 
recovery.  The  physician  thought,  however,  that  if 
he  outwitted  Death,  he  would  not,  perhaps,  be  much 
offended,  seeing  that  he  w^as  his  godfather,  so  he 
caught  hold  of  the  king  and  turned  him  round,  so 
that  by  that  means  Death  was  standing  at  his  feet. 
Then  he  gave  him  some  of  the  herb,  and  the  king 
recovered,  and  was  once  more  well.  Death  came 
up  to  the  physician  with  a  very  angry  and  gloomy 
countenance,  and  said — 

"  I  will  forgive  you  this  time  what  you  have  done, 
because  I  am  your  godfather,  but  if  you  ever  venture 
to  betray  me  again,  you  must  take  the  consequences." 

Soon  after  this  the  king's  daughter  fell  sick,  and 
nobody  could  cure  her.  The  old  king  wept  night 
and  day,  until  his  eyes  were  blinded,  and  at  last 
he  proclaimed  that  whosoever  rescued  her  from 
Death  should  be  rewarded  by  marrying  her  and 
inheriting  his  throne.  The  physician  came,  but 
Death  was  standing  at  the  head  of  the  j^rincess. 
When  the  physician  saw  the  beauty  of  the  king's 
daughter,  and  thought  of  the  promises  that  the  king 
had  made,  he  forgot  all  the  warnings  he  had  received, 
and,  although  Death  frowned  heavily  all  the  while, 
he  turned  the  patient  so  that  Death  stood  at  her 


4  GERMAN   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

feet,  and  gave  her  some  of  the  herb,  so  that  he  once 
more  put  life  into  her  veins. 

When  Death  saw  that  he  was  a  second  time 
cheated  out  of  his  property,  he  stepped  up  to  the 
physician,  and  said — 

"Now,  follow  me." 

He  laid  hold  of  him  with  his  icy  cold  hand,  and 
led  him  into  a  subterranean  cave,  in  which  there 
were  thousands  and  thousands  of  burning  candles, 
ranged  in  innumerable  rows.  Some  were  whole, 
some  half  burnt  out,  some  nearly  consumed.  Every 
instant  some  went  out,  and  fresh  ones  were  lighted, 
so  that  the  little  flames  seemed  perpetually  hopping 
about. 

"Behold,"  said  Death,  "the  life-candles  of  man- 
kind. The  large  ones  belong  to  children,  those  half 
consumed  to  middle-aged  people,  the  little  ones  to 
the  aged.  Yet  children  and  young  people  have 
oftentimes  but  a  little  candle,  and  when  that  is 
burnt  out,  their  life  is  at  an  end,  and  they  are  mine." 

The  physician  said — 

"Show  me  my  candle." 

Then  Death  pointed  out  a  very  little  candle-end, 
which  was  glimmering  in  the  socket,  and  said — 

"  Behold !  " 

Then  the  physician  said — 

"0  dearest  godfather,  light  me  up  a  new  one, 
that  I  may  first  enjoy  my  life,  be  king,  and  husband 
of  the  beautiful  princess." 


GAFFER  DEATH.  5 

"  I  cannot  do  so,"  said  Death ;  "  one  must  burn  out 
before  I  can  light  up  another." 

"  Place  the  old  one  then  upon  a  new  one,  that 
that  may  burn  on  when  this  is  at  an  end,"  said  the 
physician. 

Death  pretended  that  he  would  comply  with  this 
wish,  and  reached  a  large  candle,  but  to  revenge 
himself,  purposely  failed  in  putting  it  up,  and  the 
little  piece  fell  and  was  extinguished.  The  physician 
sank  with  it,  so  he  himself  fell  into  the  hands  of 
Death. 


THE  LEGEND  OF  PAEACELSUS. 

It  once  happened  that  Paracelsus  was  walking 
through  a  forest,  when  he  heard  a  voice  calling  to 
him  by  name.  He  looked  around,  and  at  length 
discovered  that  it  proceeded  from  a  fir-tree,  in  the 
trunk  of  which  there  was  a  spirit  enclosed  by  a 
small  stopper,  sealed  with  three  crosses. 

The  spirit  begged  of  Paracelsus  to  set  him  free. 
This  he  readily  promised,  on  condition  that  the 
spirit  should  bestow  upon  him  a  medicine  capable 
of  healing  all  diseases,  and  a  tincture  which  would 
turn  everything  it  touched  to  gold.  The  spirit 
acceded  to  his  request,  whereupon  Paracelsus  took 
his  penknife,  and  succeeded,  after  some  trouble,  in 
getting  out  the  stopper.  A  loathsome  black  spider 
crept  forth,  which  ran  down  the  trunk  of  the  tree. 
Scarcely  had  it  reached  the  ground  before  it  was 
changed,  and  became,  as  if  rising  from  the  earth,  a 
tall  haggard  man,  with  squinting  red  eyes,  wrapped 
in  a  scarlet  mantle. 

He  led  Paracelsus  to  a  high,  overhanging,  craggy 
mount,  and  with  a  hazel  twig,  which  he  had  broken 

6 


THE   LEGEND    OF   PARACELSUS.  7 

off  by  the  way,  he  smote  the  rock,  which,  splitting 
with  a  crash  at  the  blow,  divided  itself  in  twain, 
and  the  spirit  disappeared  within  it.  He,  however, 
soon  returned  with  two  small  phials,  which  he 
handed  to  Paracelsus — a  yellow  one,  containing  the 
tincture  which  turned  all  it  touched  to  gold,  and 
a  white  one,  holding  the  medicine  which  healed  all 
diseases.  He  then  smote  the  rock  a  second  time, 
and  thereupon  it  instantly  closed  again. 

Both  now  set  forth  on  their  return,  the  spirit 
directing  his  course  towards  Innspiiick,  to  seize 
upon  the  magician  who  had  banished  him  from  that 
city.  Now  Paracelsus  trembled  for  the  conse- 
quences which  his  releasing  the  Evil  One  would 
entail  upon  him  who  had  conjured  him  into  the 
tree,  and  bethought  how  he  might  rescue  him. 
When  they  arrived  once  more  at  the  fir-tree,  he 
asked  the  spirit  if  he  could  possibly  transform  him- 
self again  into  a  spider,  and  let  him  see  him  creep 
into  the  hole.  The  spirit  said  that  it  was  not  only 
possible,  but  that  he  would  be  most  happy  to  make 
such  a  display  of  his  art  for  the  gratification  of  his 
deliverer. 

Accordingly  he  once  more  assumed  the  form 
of  a  spider,  and  crept  again  into  the  well-known 
crevice.  When  he  had  done  so,  Paracelsus,  who 
had  kept  the  stopper  all  ready  in  his  hand  for  the 
purpose,  clapped  it  as  quick  as  lightning  into  the  hole, 
hammered  it  in  firmly  with  a  stone,  and  with  his 


8  GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

knife  made  three  fresh  crosses  upon  it.  Thr  spirit, 
mad  with  rage,  shook  the  fir-tree  as  though  with  a 
whirlwind,  that  he  might  drive  out  the  stopper 
which  Paracelsus  had  thrust  in,  but  his  fury  was  of 
no  avail.  It  held  fast,  and  left  him  there  with 
little  hope  of  escape,  for,  on  account  of  the  great 
drifts  of  snow  from  the  mountains,  the  forest  will 
never  be  cut  down,  and,  althoudi  he  should  call 
night  and  day,  nobody  in  that  neighbourhood  ever 
ventures  near  the  spot. 

Paracelsus,  however,  found  that  the  phials  were 
such  as  he  had  demanded,  and  it  was  by  their 
means  that  he  afterwards  became  such  a  celebrated 
and  distinguished  man. 


HANS  m  LUCK. 

Hans  had  served  his  master  seven  years,  and  at  last 
said  to  him — 

"  Master,  my  time  is  up  ;  I  should  like  to  go  home 
and  see  my  mother,  so  give  me  my  wages." 

And  the  master  said — 

"  You  have  been  a  faithful  and  good  servant,  so 
your  pay  shall  be  handsome." 

Then  he  gave  him  a  piece  of  silver  that  was  as  big 
as  his  head.  Hans  took  out  his  pocket-handkerchief, 
put  the  piece  of  silver  into  it,  threw  it  over  his 
shoulder,  and  jogged  off  homewards.  As  he  went 
lazily  on,  dragging  one  foot  after  another,  a  man 
came  in  sight,  trotting  along  gaily  on  a  capital 
horse. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Hans  aloud,  "  what  a  fine  thing  it  is 
to  ride  on  horseback !  There  he  sits  as  if  he  were 
at  home  in  his  chair.  He  trips  against  no  stones, 
spares  his  shoes,  and  yet  gets  on  he  hardly  knows 
how." 

The  horseman  heard  this,  and  said — 

"  Well,  Hans,  why  do  you  go  on  foot,  then  1 " 


10         GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

"  Ah  ! "  said  he,  "  I  have  this  load  to  carry  ;  to  be 
sure,  it  is  silver,  but  it  is  so  heavy  that  I  can't  hold 
up  my  head,  and  it  hurts  my  shoulder  sadly." 

"  What  do  you  say  to  changing  1 "  said  the  horse- 
man. "I  will  give  you  my  horse,  and  you  shall 
give  me  the  silver." 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  said  Hans,  "  but  I  tell  you 
one  thing  :  you  will  have  a  weary  task  to  drag  it 
along." 

The  horseman  got  off,  took  the  silver,  helped 
Hans  up,  gave  him  the  bridle  into  his  hand,  and 
said — 

"  When  you  want  to  go  very  fast,  you  must  smack 
your  lips  loud  and  cry,  *  Jip.' " 

Hans  was  delighted  as  he  sat  on  the  horse,  and 
rode  merrily  on.  After  a  time  he  thought  he  should 
like  to  go  a  little  faster,  so  he  smacked  his  lips  and 
cried  "  Jip. "  Away  went  the  horse  full  gallop,  and 
before  Hans  knew  what  he  was  about,  he  was  thrown 
off,  and  lay  in  a  ditch  by  the  wayside,  and  his  horse 
would  have  run  off  if  a  shepherd,  who  was  coming 
by  driving  a  cow,  had  not  stopped  it.  Hans  soon 
came  to  himself,  and  got  upon  his  legs  again.  He 
was  sadly  vexed,  and  said  to  the  shepherd — 

"  This  riding  is  no  joke  when  a  man  gets  on  a 
beast  like  this,  that  stumbles  and  flings  him  off  as  if 
he  would  break  his  neck.  However,  I  'm  off  now 
once  for  all.  I  like  your  cow  a  great  deal  better ; 
one  can  walk  alono;  at  one's  leisure  behind  her,  and 


HANS    IN   LUCK.  11 

have  milk,  butter,  and  cheese  every  day  into  the 
bargain.     What  would  I  give  to  have  such  a  cow !  " 

"  Well,"  said  the  shepherd,  "  if  you  are  so  fond  of 
her  I  will  change  my  cow  for  your  horse." 

"  Done  !  "  said  Hans  merrily. 

The  shepherd  jumped  upon  the  horse  and  away 
he  rode.  Hans  drove  off  his  cow  quietly,  and 
thought  his  bargain  a  very  lucky  one. 

"  If  I  have  only  a  piece  of  bread  (and  I  certainly 
shall  be  able  to  get  that),  I  can,  whenever  I  like,  eat 
my  butter  and  cheese  with  it,  and  when  I  am  thirsty 
I  can  milk  my  cow  and  drink  the  milk.  What  can  I 
wish  for  more  1 "  said  he. 

When  he  came  to  an  inn  he  halted,  ate  up  all  his 
bread,  and  gave  away  his  last  penny  for  a  glass  of 
beer.  Then  he  drove  his  cow  towards  his  mother's 
village.  The  heat  grew  greater  as  noon  came  on, 
till  at  last  he  found  himself  on  a  wide  heath  that  it 
would  take  him  more  than  an  hour  to  cross,  and  he 
began  to  be  so  hot  and  parched  that  his  tongue 
cleaved  to  the  roof  of  his  mouth. 

"I  can  find  a  cure  for  this,"  thought  he;  "now 
will  I  milk  my  cow  and  quench  my  thirst."  So  he 
tied  her  to  the  stump  of  a  tree,  and  held  his 
leathern  cap  to  milk  into,  but  not  a  drop  was  to 
be  had. 

While  he  was  trying  his  luck,  and  managing  the 
matter  very  clumsily,  the  uneasy  beast  gave  him  a 
kick  on  the  head  that  knocked  him  down,  and  there 


12         GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

he  lay  a  long  while  senseless.  Luckily  a  hutcher 
came  by  driving  a  pig  in  a  wheelbarrow. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you  1 "  said  the  butcher, 
as  he  helped  him  up. 

Hans  told  him  what  had  happened,  and  the 
butcher  gave  him  a  flask,  saying — 

"There,  drink  and  refresh  yourself.  Your  cow 
will  give  you  no  milk ;  she  is  an  old  beast,  good  for 
nothing  but  the  slaughter-house." 

"  Alas,  alas ! "  said  Hans,  "  who  would  have 
thought  if?  If  I  kill  her,  what  will  she  be  good 
for]  I  hate  cow-beef;  it  is  not  tender  enough  for 
me.  If  it  were  a  pig,  now,  one  could  do  something 
with  it ;  it  would  at  any  rate  make  some  sausages." 

"AVell,"  said  the  butcher,  "to  please  you  I'll 
change  and  give  you  the  pig  for  the  cow." 

"  Heaven  reward  you  for  your  kindness !  "  said 
Hans,  as  he  gave  the  butcher  the  cow  and  took  the 
pig  off  the  wheelbarrow  and  drove  it  off,  holding  it 
by  a  string  tied  to  its  leg. 

So  on  he  jogged,  and  all  seemed  now  to  go  right 
with  him.  He  had  met  with  some  misfortunes,  to  be 
sure,  but  he  was  now  well  repaid  for  all.  The  next 
person  he  met  was  a  countryman  carrying  a  fine 
white  goose  under  his  arm.  The  countryman 
stopped  to  ask  what  was  the  hour,  and  Hans  told 
him  all  his  luck,  and  how  he  had  made  so  many  good 
bargains.  The  countryman  said  he  was  going  to 
take  the  goose  to  a  christening. 


HANS   IN  LUCK.  13 

"  Feel,"  said  he,  "  how  heavy  it  is,  and  yet  it  is 
only  eight  weeks  old.  Whoever  roasts  and  eats  it 
may  cut  plenty  of  fat  off,  it  has  lived  so  well." 

"  You  're  right,"  said  Hans,  as  he  weighed  it  in 
his  hand  ;  "  but  my  pig  is  no  trifle." 

Meantime  the  countryman  began  to  look  grave, 
and  shook  his  head. 

"  Hark  ye,"  said  he,  "  my  good  friend.  Your  pig 
may  get  you  into  a  scrape.  In  the  village  I  have 
just  come  from  the  squire  has  had  a  pig  stolen  out 
of  his  sty.  I  was  dreadfully  afraid  when  I  saw 
you  that  you  had  got  the  squire's  pig.  It  will  be 
a  bad  job  if  they  catch  you,  for  the  least  they  '11  do 
nvill  be  to  throw  you  into  the  horse-pond." 

Poor  Hans  was  sadly  frightened. 

"  Good  man,"  cried  he,  "  pray  get  me  out  of  this 
scrape.  You  know  this  country  better  than  I ;  take 
my  pig  and  give  me  the  goose." 

"I  ought  to  have  something  into  the  bargain," 
said  the  countryman ;  "  however,  I  '11  not  bear  hard 
upon  you,  as  you  are  in  trouble." 

Then  he  took  the  string  in  his  hand  and  drove 
off  the  pig  by  a  side  path,  while  Hans  went  on  his 
way  homeward  free  from  care. 

"  After  all,"  thought  he,  "  I  have  the  best  of  the 
bargain.  First  there  will  be  a  capital  roast,  then 
the  fat  will  find  me  in  goose-grease  for  six  months, 
and  then  there  are  all  the  beautiful  white  feathers. 
I  will  put  them  into  my  pillow,  and  then  I  am  sure 


14         GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES.  . 

I  shall  sleep  soundly  without  rocking.     How  happy 
my  mother  will  be  !  " 

As  he  came  to  the  last  village  he  saw  a  scissors- 
grinder,  with  his  wheel,  working  away  and  singing — 

"  O'er  hill  and  o'er  dale  so  happy  I  roam, 
Work  light  and  live  well,  all  the  world  is  my  home  ; 
Who  so  blythe,  so  merry  as  I  ?  " 

Hans  stood  looking  for  a  while,  and  at  last  said — 

"  You  must  be  well  off,  master  grinder,  you  seem 
so  happy  at  your  w^ork." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  other,  "  mine  is  a  golden  trade. 
A  good  grinder  never  puts  his  hand  in  his  pocket 
without  finding  money  in  it — but  where  did  you 
get  that  beautiful  goose  1 " 

"  I  did  not  buy  it,  but  changed  a  pig  for  it." 

"  And  where  did  you  get  the  pig  1 " 

*'  I  gave  a  cow  for  it." 

"  And  the  cow  ?  " 

"  I  gave  a  horse  for  it." 

''  And  the  horse  1  " 

"  I  gave  a  piece  of  silver  as  big  as  my  head  for 
that." 

"And  the  silver r' 

"  Oh  !  I  worked  hard  for  that  seven  long  years." 

"  You  have  thriven  well  in  the  world  hitherto," 
said  the  grinder,  "  now  if  you  could  find  money  in 
your  pocket  whenever  you  put  your  hand  into  it 
your  fortune  would  be  made." 


HANS   IN  LUCK.  15 

"  Very  true,  but  how  is  that  to  be  managed  1 " 

"  You  must  turn  grinder  like  me,"  said  the  other. 
"You  only  want  a  grindstone,  the  rest  will  come  of 
itself.  Here  is  one  that  is  only  a  little  the  worse 
for  wear.  I  would  not  ask  more  than  the  value  of 
your  goose  for  it.     Will  you  buy  it  1  " 

"  How  can  you  ask  such  a  question  1 "  said  Hans. 
"  I  should  be  the  happiest  man  in  the  world  if  I 
could  have  money  whenever  I  put  my  hand  in  my 
pocket.  What  could  I  want  more  1  There  's  the 
goose." 

"Now,"  said  the  grinder,  as  he  gave  him  a 
common  rough  stone  that  lay  by  his  side,  "  this  is 
a  most  capital  stone.  Do  but  manage  it  cleverly 
and  you  can  make  an  old  nail  cut  with  it." 

Hans  took  the  stone,  and  went  off  with  a  light 
heart.  His  eyes  sparkled  with  joy,  and  he  said  to 
himself — 

"  I  must  have  been  born  in  a  lucky  hour.  Every- 
thing I  want  or  wish  comes  to  me  of  itself." 

Meantime  he  began  to  be  tired,  for  he  had  been 
travelling  ever  since  daybreak.  He  was  hungry  too, 
for  he  had  given  away  his  last  penny  in  his  joy  at 
getting  the  cow.  At  last  he  could  go  no  further, 
and  the  stone  tired  him  terribly,  so  he  dragged  him- 
self to  the  side  of  the  pond  that  he  might  drink  some 
water  and  rest  a  while.  He  laid  the  stone  carefully 
by  his  side  on  the  bank,  but  as  he  stooped  down  to 
drink  he  forgot  it,  raished  it  a  little,  and  down  it 


16  GERMAN   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

went,  plump  into  the  pond.  For  a  while  he  watched 
it  sinking  in  the  deep,  clear  water,  then  sprang  up 
for  joy,  and  again  fell  upon  his  knees  and  thanked 
Heaven  with  tears  in  his  eyes  for  its  kindness  in 
taking  away  his  only  plague,  the  ugly,  heavy  stone. 

"  How  happy  am  I !  "  cried  he  ;  "no  mortal  was 
ever  so  lucky  as  I  am." 

Then  he  got  up  with  a  light  and  merry  heart,  and 
walked  on,  free  from  all  his  troubles,  till  he  reached 
his  mother's  house. 


THE  GREY  MARE  IN  THE  GARRET. 

In  the  portal  of  the  Church  of  the  Apostles,  near 
the  new  market  in  Cologne,  hung  a  picture,  the 
portraits  of  a  certain  Erau  Richmodis  von  Aclucht 
and  her  two  children,  of  whom  the  following  singu- 
lar story  is  related.  The  picture  was  covered  with 
a  curtain  which  she  worked  with  her  own  hands. 

Her  husband,  Richmuth  von  Aducht,  was,  in  the 
year  of  grace  1400,  a  rich  burgomaster  of  Cologne, 
and  lived  at  the  sign  of  the  Parroquet  in  the  New 
Marckt.  In  that  year  a  fearful  plague  desolated  all 
quarters  of  the  city.  She  fell  sick  of  the  pest,  and, 
to  all  appearance,  died.  After  the  usual  period  had 
elapsed  she  was  buried  in  the  vaults  of  the  Apostles* 
Church.  She  was  buried,  as  the  custom  then  was, 
with  her  jewelled  rings  on  her  fingers,  and  most  of 
her  rich  ornaments  on  her  person.  These  tempted 
the  cupidity  of  the  sexton  of  the  church.  He 
argued  with  himself  that  they  were  no  use  to  the 
corpse,  and  he  determined  to  possess  them.  Accord- 
ingly he  proceeded  in  the  dead  of  night  to  the  vault 
where  she  lay  interred,  and  commenced  the  work 
B 


18         GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

of  sacrilegious  spoliation.  He  first  unscrewed  the 
cofiin  lid.  He  then  removed  it  altogether,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  tear  away  the  shroud  which  interposed 
between  him  and  his  prey.  But  w^hat  was  his 
horror  to  perceive  the  corpse  clasp  her  hands  slowly 
together,  then  rise^  and  finally  sit  erect  in  the  coflSn. 
He  was  rooted  to  the  earth.  The  corpse  made  as 
though  it  would  step  from  its  narrow  bed,  and  the 
sexton  fled,  shrieking,  through  the  vaults.  The 
corpse  followed,  its  long  white  shroud  floating  like 
a  meteor  in  the  dim  light  of  the  lamp,  which,  in  his 
haste,  he  had  forgotten.  It  was  not  until  he  reached 
his  own  door  that  he  had  suflScient  courage  to  look 
behind  him,  and  then,  when  he  perceived  no  trace  of 
his  pursuer,  the  excitement  which  had  sustained 
him  so  far  subsided,  and  he  sank  senseless  to  the 
earth. 

In  the  meantime  Richmuth  von  Aducht,  who  had 
slept  scarcely  a  moment  since  the  death  of  his  dear 
wife,  was  surprised  by  the  voice  of  his  old  man- 
servant, who  rapped  loudly  at  his  chamber  door, 
and  told  him  to  awake  and  come  forth,  for  his 
mistress  had  arisen  from  the  dead,  and  was  then  at 
the  gate  of  the  courtyard. 

"  Bah  !  "  said  he,  rather  pettishly,  "  go  thy  ways, 
Hans  ;  you  dream,  or  are  mad,  or  drunk.  What  you 
see  is  quite  impossible.  I  should  as  soon  believe 
my  old  grey  mare  had  got  into  the  garret  as  that 
my  wife  was  at  the  courtyard  gate." 


THE    GKEY   MAKE   IN   THE   GAREET.  19 

Trot,  trot,  trot,  trot,  suddenly  resounded  high 
over  his  head. 

"  What 's  that  ? "  asked  he  of  his  servant. 

"  I  know  not,"  replied  the  man,  "  an'  it  be  not 
your  old  grey  mare  in  the  garret." 

They  descended  in  haste  to  the  courtyard,  and 
looked  up  to  the  window  of  the  attic.  Lo  and  be- 
hold !  there  was  indeed  the  grey  mare  with  her  head 
poked  out  of  the  window,  gazing  down  with  her 
great  eyes  on  her  master  and  his  man,  and  seeming 
to  enjoy  very  much  her  exalted  station,  and  their 
surprise  at  it. 

Knock,  knock,  knock  went  the  rapper  of  the 
street  gate. 

"It  is  my  wife !"  "It  is  my  mistress!"  exclaimed 
master  and  man  in  the  same  breath. 

The  door  was  quickly  unfastened,  and  there, 
truly,  stood  the  mistress  of  the  mansion,  enveloped 
in  her  shroud. 

"  Are  you  alive  or  dead  1 "  exclaimed  the  as- 
tonished husband. 

"  Alive,  my  dear,  but  very  cold,"  she  murmured 
faintly,  her  teeth  chattering  the  while,  as  those  of 
one  in  a  fever  chill ;  "  help  me  to  my  chamber." 

He  caught  her  in  his  arms  and  covered  her  with 
kisses.  Then  he  bore  her  to  her  chamber,  and 
called  up  the  whole  house  to  welcome  and  assist 
her.  She  suffered  a  little  from  fatigue  and  fright, 
but  in  a  few  days  was  very  much  recovered. 


20  GERMAN    FOLKLORE    TALES. 

The  thing  became  the  talk  of  the  town,  and 
hundreds  flocked  daily  to  see,  not  alone  the  lady 
that  was  rescued  from  the  grave  in  so  remarkable  a 
manner,  but  also  the  grey  mare  which  had  so 
strangely  contrived  to  get  into  the  garret. 

The  excellent  lady  lived  long  and  happily  with 
her  husband,  and  at  her  death  was  laid  once  more 
in  her  old  resting-place.  The  grey  mare,  after  rest- 
ing in  the  garret  three  days,  was  got  down  by  means 
of  scafl'olding,  safe  and  sound.  She  survived  her 
mistress  for  some  time,  and  was  a  general  favourite 
in  the  city,  and  when  she  died  her  skin  was  stuffed, 
and  placed  in  the  arsenal  as  a  curiosity.  The  sexton 
went  mad  with  the  fright  he  had  sustained,  and 
in  a  short  time  entered  that  bourn  whence  he 
had  so  unintentionally  recovered  the  burgomaster's 
wife. 

Not  only  was  this  memorable  circumstance  com- 
memorated in  the  Church  of  the  Apostles,  but  it 
was  also  celebrated  in  bassi  relievi  figures  on  the 
walls  of  the  burgomaster's  residence — the  sign  of 
the  Parroquet  in  the  New  Marckt.  The  searcher 
after  antiquities  will,  however,  look  in  vain  for 
either.  They  are  not  now  to  be  found.  Modern 
taste  has  defaced  the  porch  where  stood  the  one, 
and  erected  a  shapeless  structure  on  the  site  of  the 
other. 


THE  WATER  SPIEIT. 

About  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century,  when 
Ztindorf  was  no  larger  than  it  is  at  present,  there 
lived  at  the  end  of  the  village,  hard  by  the  church, 
one  of  that  useful  class  of  women  termed  midwives. 
She  was  an  honest,  industrious  creature,  and  what 
with  ushering  the  new-born  into  life,  and  then 
assisting  in  making  garments  for  them,  she  con- 
trived to  creep  through  the  world  in  comfort,  if  not 
in  complete  happiness. 

The  summer  had  been  one  of  unusual  drought, 
and  the  winter,  of  a  necessity,  one  of  uncommon 
scarcity,  so  that  when  the  spring  arrived  the  good 
woman  had  less  to  do  than  at  any  period  in  the 
preceding  seven  years.  In  fact  she  was  totally 
unemployed.  As  she  mused  one  night,  lying  abed, 
on  the  matter,  she  was  startled  by  a  sharp,  quick 
knock  at  the  door  of  her  cottage.  She  hesitated  for 
a  moment  to  answer  the  call,  but  the  knocking  was 
repeated  with  more  violence  than  before.  This 
caused  her  to  spring  out  of  bed  without  more  delay, 
and  hasten  to  ascertain  the  wish  of  her  impatient 

21 


22  GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

visitor.  She  opened  the  door  in  the  twinkling  of 
an  eye,  and  a  man,  tall  of  stature,  enveloped  in  a 
large  dark  cloak,  stood  before  her. 

"My  wife  is  in  need  of  thee,"  he  said  to  her 
abruptly;  "her  time  is  come.     Follow  me." 

"Nay,  but  the  night  is  dark,  sir,"  replied  she. 
"  Whither  do  you  desire  me  to  follow  1 " 

"  Close  at  hand,"  he  answered,  as  abruptly  as 
before.     "  Be  ye  quick  and  follow  me." 

"I  will  but  light  my  lamp  and  place  it  in  the 
lantern,"  said  the  woman.  "It  will  not  cost  me 
more  than  a  moment's  delay." 

"It  needs  not,  it  needs  not,"  repeated  the 
stranger ;  "  the  spot  is  close  by.  I  know  every  foot 
of  ground.     Follow,  follow  ! " 

There  was  something  so  imperative,  and  at  the 
same  time  so  irresistible,  in  the  manner  of  the  man 
that  she  said  not  another  word,  but  drawing  her 
warm  cloak  about  her  head  followed  him  at  once. 
Ere  she  was  aware  of  the  course  he  had  taken,  so 
dark  was  the  night,  and  so  wrapt  up  was  she  in  the 
cloak  and  in  her  meditations,  she  found  herself 
on  the  bank  of  the  Rhine,  just  opposite  to  the  low 
fertile  islet  which  bears  the  same  name  as  the 
village,  and  lies  at  a  little  distance  from  the  shore. 

"How  is  this,  good  sirl"  she  exclaimed,  in  a 
tone  of  surprise  and  alarm.  "  You  have  missed  the 
way — you  have  left  your  road.  Here  is  no  further 
path." 


THE  WATER  SPIRIT.  23 

"Silence,  and  follow,"  were  the  only  words  he 
spoke  in  reply  ;  but  they  were  uttered  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  show  her  at  once  that  her  best  course 
was  obedience. 

They  were  now  at  the  edge  of  the  mighty  stream ; 
the  rushing  waters  washed  their  feet.  The  poor 
woman  would  fain  have  drawn  back,  but  she  could 
not,  such  was  the  preternatural  power  exercised 
over  her  by  her  companion. 

"  Fear  not ;  follow  ! "  he  spoke  again,  in  a  kinder 
tone,  as  the  current  kissed  the  hem  of  her  garments. 

He  took  the  lead  of  her.  The  waters  opened  to 
receive  him.  A  wall  of  crystal  seemed  built  up  on 
either  side  of  the  vista.  He  plunged  into  its 
depths;  she  followed.  The  wild  wave  gurgled  over 
them,  and  they  were  walking  over  the  shiny  pebbles 
and  glittering  sands  which  strewed  the  bed  of  the 
river. 

And  now  a  change  came  over  her  indeed.  She 
had  left  all  on  earth  in  the  thick  darkness  of  a 
starless  spring  night,  yet  all  around  her  was  lighted 
up  like  a  mellow  harvest  eve,  when  the  sun  shines 
refulgent  through  masses  of  golden  clouds  on  the 
smiling  pastures  and  emerald  meadows  of  the  west. 
She  looked  up,  but  she  could  see  no  cause  for  this 
illumination.  She  looked  down,  and  her  search 
was  equally  unsuccessful.  She  seemed  to  herself  to 
traverse  a  great  hall  of  surpassing  transparency, 
lighted  up  by  a  light  resembling  that  given  out  by 


24  GEKMAA'    FOLKLORE   TALES. 

a  huge  globe  of  ground  glass.  Her  conductor  still 
preceded  her.  They  approached  a  little  door. 
The  chamber  within  it  contained  the  object  of 
their  solicitude.  On  a  couch  of  mother-of-pearl, 
surrounded  by  sleeping  fishes  and  drowsy  syrens, 
who  could  evidently  afford  her  no  assistance,  lay 
the  sick  lady. 

"  Here  is  my  wife,"  spake  the  stranger,  as  they 
entered  this  chamber.  "  Take  her  in  hand  at  once, 
and  hark  ye,  mother,  heed  that  she  has  no  injury 
through  thee,  or " 

\Yith  these  words  he  waved  his  hand,  and,  pre- 
ceded by  the  obedient  inhabitants  of  the  river,  who 
had  until  then  occupied  the  chamber,  left  the 
apartment. 

The  midwife  approached  her  patient  with  fear 
and  trembling;  she  knew  not  what  to  anticipate. 
What  was  her  surprise  to  perceive  that  the  stranger 
was  like  any  other  lady.  The  business  in  hand 
was  soon  finished,  and  midwife  and  patient  began 
to  talk  together,  as  women  will  when  an  opportunity 
is  afforded  them. 

"  It  surprises  me  much,"  quoth  the  former,  "  to 
see  such  a  handsome  young  lady  as  you  are  buried 
down  here  in  the  bottom  of  the  river.  Do  you 
never  visit  the  land  ?     What  a  loss  it  is  to  you  !  " 

"  Hush,  hush ! "  interposed  the  Triton's  lady, 
placing  her  forefinger  significantly  on  her  lips; 
"  you  peril  your  life  by  talking  thus  without  guard. 


THE   WATER   SPIRIT.  25 

Go  to  the  door ;  look  out,  that  you  may  see  if  there 
be  any  listeners,  then  I  will  tell  something  to  sur- 
prise you." 

The  midwife  did  as  she  was  directed.  There 
was  no  living  being  within  earshot. 

"  Now,  listen,"  said  the  lady. 

The  midwife  was  all  ear. 

"I  am  a  woman ;  a  Christian  woman  like  your- 
self," she  continued,  "  though  I  am  here  now  in  the 
home  of  my  husband,  who  is  the  spirit  of  these 
mighty  waters." 

"  God  be  praised !  "  ejaculated  her  auditor. 

"  My  father  was  the  lord  of  the  hamlet  of  Eheidt, 
a  little  above  Liilsdorf,  and  I  lived  there  in  peace 
and  happiness  during  my  girlish  days.  I  had  no- 
thing to  desire,  as  every  wish  was  gratified  by  him 
as  soon  as  it  was  formed.  However,  as  I  grew  to 
womanhood  I  felt  that  my  happiness  had  departed. 
I  knew  not  whither  it  had  gone,  or  why,  but  gone 
it  was.  I  felt  restless,  melancholy,  wretched.  I 
wanted,  in  short,  something  to  love,  but  that  I 
found  out  since.  Well,  one  day  a  merry-making 
took  place  in  the  village,  and  every  one  was  present 
at  it.  We  danced  on  the  green  sward  which 
stretches  to  the  margin  of  the  river ;  for  that  day  I 
forgot  my  secret  grief,  and  was  among  the  gayest  of 
the  gay.  They  made  me  the  queen  of  the  feast,  and 
I  had  the  homage  of  all.  As  the  sun  was  going  down 
in  glory  in  the  far  west,  melting  the  masses  of  clouds 


26         GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

into  liquid  gold,  a  stranger  of  a  noble  mien  appeared 
in  the  midst  of  our  merry  circle.  He  was  garbed  in 
green  from  head  to  heel,  and  seemed  to  have  crossed 
the  river,  for  the  hem  of  his  rich  riding-cloak  was 
dripping  with  wet.  No  one  knew  him,  no  one 
cared  to  inquire  who  he  was,  and  his  presence  rather 
awed  than  rejoiced  us.  He  was,  however,  a  stranger, 
and  he  was  welcome.  When  I  tell  you  that 
stranger  is  my  husband,  you  may  imagine  the  rest. 
When  the  dance  then  on  foot  was  ended,  he  asked 
my  hand.  I  could  not  refuse  it  if  I  would,  but  I 
would  not  if  I  could.  He  was  irresistible.  We 
danced  and  danced  until  the  earth  seemed  to  reel 
around  us.  I  could  perceive,  however,  even  in  the 
whirl  of  tumultuous  delight  which  forced  me  onward, 
that  we  neared  the  water's  edge  in  every  successive 
figure.  We  stood  at  length  on  the  verge  of  the 
stream.  The  current  caught  my  dress,  the  villagers 
shrieked  aloud,  and  rushed  to  rescue  me  from  the 
river. 

"  '  Follow  ! '  said  my  partner,  plunging  as  he  spoke 
into  the  foaming  flood. 

"  I  followed.  Since  then  I  have  lived  with  him 
here.  It  is  now  a  century  since,  but  he  has  com- 
municated to  me  a  portion  of  his  own  immortality, 
and  I  know  not  age,  neither  do  I  dread  death  any 
longer.  He  is  good  and  kind  to  me,  though 
fearful  to  others.  The  only  cause  of  complaint  I 
have  is  his  invariable   custom  of  destroying  every 


THE   WATER   SPIRIT.  27 

babe  to  which  I  give  birth  on  the  third  day- 
after  my  delivery.  He  says  it  is  for  my  sake, 
and  for  their  sakes,  that  he  does  so,  and  he  knows 
best." 

She  sighed  heavily  as  she  said  this. 

"  And  now,"  resumed  the  lady,  "  I  must  give  you 
one  piece  of  advice,  which,  if  you  would  keep  your 
life,  you  must  implicitly  adopt.  My  husband  will 
return.  Be  on  your  guard,  I  bid  you.  He  will 
offer  you  gold,  he  will  pour  out  the  countless  treasures 
he  possesses  before  you,  he  will  proffer  you  diamonds 
and  pearls  and  priceless  gems,  but — heed  well  what 
I  say  to  you — take  nothing  more  from  him  than 
you  would  from  any  other  person.  Take  the  exact 
sum  you  are  wont  to  receive  on  earth,  and  take  not 
a  kreutzer  more,  or  your  life  is  not  worth  a  moment's 
purchase.     It  is  forfeit." 

"  He  must  be  a  cruel  being,  indeed,"  ejaculated 
the  midwife.  "God  deliver  me  from  this  dread 
and  great  danger." 

"See  you  yon  sealed  vessels'?"  spake  the  lady, 
without  seeming  to  heed  her  fright,  or  hear  her 
ejaculations. 

The  midwife  looked,  and  saw  ranged  on  an  upper 
shelf  of  the  apartment  about  a  dozen  small  pots, 
like  pipkins,  all  fast  sealed,  and  labelled  in  unknown 
characters. 

"  These  pots,"  pursued  she,  "  contain  the  souls  of 
those  who  have  been,  like  you,  my  attendants  in 


28         GERMAN  FOLKLOKE  TALES. 

childbirth,  but  who,  for  slighting  the  advice  I  gave 
them,  as  I  now  give  you,  and  permitting  a  spirit  of 
unjust  gain  to  take  possession  of  their  hearts,  were 
deprived  of  life  by  my  husband.  Heed  well  what  I 
say.     He  comes.     Be  silent  and  discreet." 

As  she  spake  the  water  spirit  entered.  He  first 
asked  his  wife  how  she  did,  and  his  tones  were  like 
the  rushing  sound  of  a  current  heard  far  off.  Learn- 
ing from  her  own  lips  that  all  was  well  with  her, 
he  turned  to  the  midwife  and  thanked  her  most 
graciously. 

"  Now,  come  with  me,"  he  said,  "  I  must  pay  thee 
for  thy  services." 

She  followed  him  from  the  sick-chamber  to  the 
treasury  of  the  palace.  It  was  a  spacious  crystal 
vault,  lighted  up,  like  the  rest  of  the  palace,  from 
without,  but  within  it  was  resplendent  with  trea- 
sures of  all  kinds.  He  led  her  to  a  huge  heap  of 
shining  gold  which  ran  the  whole  length  of  the 
chamber. 

"  Here,"  said  he,  "  take  what  you  w^ill.  I  put  no 
stint  upon  you." 

The  trembling  woman  picked  up  a  single  piece  of 
the  smallest  coin  she  could  find  upon  the  heap. 

"This  is  my  fee,"  she  spake.  "I  ask  no  more 
than  a  fair  remuneration  for  my  labour." 

The  water  spirit's  brow  blackened  like  a  tempestu- 
ous night,  and  he  showed  his  green  teeth  for  a 
moment  as  if  in  great  ire,  but  the  feeling,  whatever 


THE    WATER    SPIRIT.  29 

it  was,  appeared  to  pass  away  as  quickly  as  it  came, 
and  he  led  her  to  a  huge  heap  of  pearls. 

"  Here,"  he  said,  "  take  what  you  will.  Perhaps 
you  like  these  better  1  They  are  all  pearls  of  great 
price,  or  may  be  you  would  wish  for  some  memento 
of  me.     Take  what  you  will." 

But  she  still  declined  to  take  anything  more, 
although  he  tempted  her  with  all  his  trea- 
sures. She  had  not  forgotten  the  advice  of  her 
patient. 

"  I  desire  nothing  more  from  you,  great  prince  as 
you  are,  than  I  receive  from  one  of  my  own  condi- 
tion." This  was  her  uniform  answer  to  his 
entreaties — 

"  I  thank  you,  but  I  may  not  take  aught  beside 
my  due." 

"If,"  said  he,  after  a  short  pause,  "you  had 
taken  more  than  your  due,  you  would  have  perished 
at  my  hands.  And  now,"  proceeded  the  spirit, 
"you  shall  home,  but  first  take  this.  Fear 
not." 

As  he  spake  he  dipped  his  hand  in  the  heap  of 
gold  and  poured  forth  a  handful  into  her  lap. 

"  Use  that,"  he  continued,  "  use  it  without  fear. 
It  is  my  gift.  No  evil  will  come  of  it ;  I  give  you 
my  royal  word." 

He  beckoned  her  onward  without  waiting  for  her 
reply,  and  they  were  walking  once  again  through 
the  corridors  of  the  palace. 


30  GERMAN   FOLKLORE  TALES. 

"  Adieu ! "  he  said,  waving  his  hand  to  her, 
"adieu!" 

Darkness  fell  around  her  in  a  moment.  In  a 
moment  more  she  awoke,  as  from  a  dream,  in  her 
warm  bed. 


PETER  KLAUS. 

Peter  Klaus,  a  goatherd  of  Sittendorf,  who  tended 
herds  on  the  Kyffhauser  mountain,  used  to  let  them 
rest  of  an  evening  in  a  spot  surrounded  by  an  old 
wall,  where  he  always  counted  them  to  see  if  they 
were  all  right.  For  some  days  he  noticed  that  one 
of  his  finest  goats,  as  they  came  to  this  spot, 
vanished,  and  never  returned  to  the  herd  till  late. 
He  watched  him  more  closely,  and  at  length  saw 
him  slip  through  a  rent  in  the  wall.  He  followed 
him,  and  caught  him  in  a  cave,  feeding  sumptuously 
upon  the  grains  of  oats  which  fell  one  by  one  from 
the  roof  He  looked  up,  shook  his  head  at  the 
shower  of  oats,  but,  with  all  his  care,  could  discover 
nothing  further.  At  length  he  heard  overhead  the 
neighing  and  stamping  of  some  mettlesome  horses, 
and  concluded  that  the  oats  must  have  fallen  from 
their  mangers. 

While  the  goatherd  stood  there,  wondering  about 
these  horses  in  a  totally  uninhabited  mountain,  a 
lad  came  and  made  signs  to  him  to  follow  him 
silently.     Peter  ascended  some  steps,  and,  crossing 

31 


32  GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

a  walled  court,  came  to  a  glade  surrounded  by  rocky 
cliffs,  into  which  a  sort  of  twilight  made  its  way 
through  the  thick-leaved  branches.  Here  he  found 
twelve  grave  old  knights  playing  at  skittles,  at  a 
well-levelled  and  fresh  plot  of  grass.  Peter  was 
silently  appointed  to  set  up  the  ninepins  for  them. 

At  first  his  knees  knocked  together  as  he  did 
this,  while  he  marked,  Avith  half-stolen  glances,  the 
long  beards  and  goodly  paunches  of  the  noble 
knights.  By  degrees,  however,  he  grew  more  con- 
fident, and  looked  at  everything  about  him  with  a 
steady  gaze — nay,  at  last,  he  ventured  so  far  as  to 
take  a  draught  from  a  pitcher  which  stood  near 
him,  the  fragrance  of  which  appeared  to  him  de- 
lightful. He  felt  quite  revived  by  the  draught,  and 
as  often  as  he  felt  at  all  tired,  received  new  strength 
from  application  to  the  inexhaustible  pitcher.  But 
at  length  sleep  overcame  him. 

When  he  awoke,  he  found  himself  once  more  in 
the  enclosed  green  space,  where  he  was  accustomed 
to  leave  his  goats.  He  rubbed  his  eyes,  but  could 
discover  neither  dog  nor  goats,  and  stared  with  sur- 
prise at  the  height  to  which  the  grass  had  grown, 
and  at  the  bushes  and  trees,  which  he  never  remem- 
bered to  have  noticed.  Shaking  his  head,  he  pro- 
ceeded along  the  roads  and  paths  which  he  was 
accustomed  to  traverse  daily  with  his  herd,  but 
could  nowhere  see  any  traces  of  his  goats.  Below 
him  he  saw  Sittendorf ;  and    at  last  he  descended 


PETER   KLAUS.  33 

with  quickened  step,  there  to  make  inquiries  after 
his  herd. 

The  people  whom  he  met  at  his  entrance  to  the 
town  were  unknown  to  him,  and  dressed  and 
spoke  differently  from  those  whom  he  had  known 
there.  Moreover,  they  all  stared  at  him  when  he 
inquired  about  his  goats,  and  began  stroking  their 
chins.  At  last,  almost  involuntarily,  he  did  the 
same,  and  found  to  his  great  astonishment  that  his 
beard  had  grown  to  be  a  foot  long.  He  began  now 
to  think  himself  and  the  world  altogether  bewitched, 
and  yet  he  felt  sure  that  the  mountain  from  which 
he  had  descended  was  the  Kyffhauser;  and  the 
houses  here,  with  their  fore- courts,  were  all  familiar 
to  him.  Moreover,  several  lads  whom  he  heard 
telling  the  name  of  the  place  to  a  traveller  called  it 
Sittendorf. 

Shaking  his  head,  he  proceeded  into  the  town 
straight  to  his  own  house.  He  found  it  sadly  fallen 
to  decay.  Before  it  lay  a  strange  herd-boy  in 
tattered  garments,  and  near  him  an  old  worn-out 
dog,  which  growled  and  showed  his  teeth  at  Peter 
when  he  called  him.  He  entered  by  the  opening, 
which  had  formerly  been  closed  by  a  door,  but 
found  all  within  so  desolate  and  empty  that  he 
staggered  out  again  like  a  drunkard,  and  called  his 
wife  and  children.  No  one  heard  ;  no  voice  an- 
swered him. 

Women  and  children  now  began  to  surround  the 
C 


34  GERMAN   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

strange  old  man,  with  the  long  hoary  beard,  and  to 
contend  with  one  another  in  inquiring  of  him  what 
he  wanted.  He  thought  it  so  ridiculous  to  make 
inquiries  of  strangers,  before  his  own  house,  after 
his  wife  and  children,  and  still  more  so,  after  him- 
self, that  he  mentioned  the  first  neighbour  whose 
name  occurred  to  him,  Kirt  Stiffen.  All  were  silent, 
and  looked  at  one  another,  till  an  old  woman  said — 

"  He  has  left  here  these  twelve  years.  He  lives 
at  Sachsenberg ;  you  '11  hardly  get  there  to-day." 

"  Velten  Maier  ?  " 

"  God  help  him  !  "  said  an  old  crone  leaning  on  a 
crutch.  "  He  has  been  confined  these  fifteen  years 
in  the  house,  which  he  '11  never  leave  again." 

He  recognised,  as  he  thought,  his  suddenly  aged 
neighbour  ;  but  he  had  lost  all  desire  of  asking  any 
more  questions.  At  last  a  brisk  young  woman,  with 
a  boy  of  a  twelvemonth  old  in  her  arms,  and  with  a 
little  girl  holding  her  hand,  made  her  way  through 
the  gaping  crowd,  and  they  looked  for  all  the 
world  like  his  wife  and  children. 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  "  said  Peter,  astonished. 

"Maria." 

"  And  your  father  1  " 

"  God  have  mercy  on  him,  Peter  Klaus.  It  is 
twenty  years  since  we  sought  him  day  and  night  on 
the  Kyflfhauser,  when  his  goats  came  home  without 
him.  I  was  only  seven  years  old  when  it  hap- 
pened." 


PETER   KLAUS.  35 

The  goatherd  could  no  longer  contain  himself. 

"  I  am  Peter  Klaus,"  he  cried,  "  and  no  other," 
and  he  took  the  babe  from  his  daughter's  arms. 

All  stood  like  statues  for  a  minute,  till  one  and 
then  another  began  to  cry — 

"  Here  's  Peter  Klaus  come  back  again !  Welcome, 
neighbour,  welcome,  after  twenty  years;  welcome, 
Peter  Klaus!" 


THE  LEGEND  OF  RHEINECK. 

Graf  Ulric  von  Eheineck  was  a  very  wild  youth. 

Recklessly  and  without  consideration  did  he  plunge 
into  every  excess.  Dissipation  grew  to  be  the  habit 
of  his  life,  and  no  sensual  indulgence  did  he  deny 
himself  which  could  be  procured  by  any  means 
whatever.  Amply  provided  for  as  he  was,  the 
revenues  of  his  wide  possessions,  which  compre- 
hended Thai  Rheineck,  and  the  adjacent  country,  to 
the  shore  of  the  Rhine,  and  as  far  as  the  mouth  of 
the  Aar,  were  soon  discovered  to  be  insufficient  for 
all  his  absorbing  necessities.  One  by  one  his  broad 
lands  were  alienated  from  him,  piece  after  piece  of 
that  noble  possession  fell  from  his  house,  until 
finally  he  found  himself  without  a  single  inch  of 
ground  which  he  could  call  his  own,  save  the  small 
and  unproductive  spot  on  which  Rheineck  stood. 
This  he  had  no  power  to  transfer,  or  perhaps  it 
would  have  gone  with  the  remainder.  The  castle 
had  fallen  sadly  into  disrepair,  through  his  pro- 
tracted absence  from  home,  and  his  continual 
neglect  of  it, — indeed  there  was  scarcely  a  habitable 

36 


THE    LEGEND    OF   KHEINECK.  37 

room  within  its  precincts,  and  he  now  had  no  means 
to  make  it  the  fitting  abode  of  any  one,  still  less 
of  a  nobleman  of  his  rank  and  consequence.  All 
without,  as  well  as  all  within  it,  was  desolate  and 
dreary  to  the  last  degree.  The  splendid  garden, 
previously  the  pride  of  his  ancestors,  was  overrun 
with  weeds,  and  tangled  with  parasites  and  creepers. 
The  stately  trees,  which  once  afforded  shelter  and 
shade,  as  well  as  fruits  of  the  finest  quality  and 
rarest  kinds,  were  all  dying  or  withered,  or  had 
their  growth  obstructed  by  destroying  plants.  The 
outer  walls  were  in  a  ruinous  condition,  the  fortifi- 
cations were  everywhere  fallen  into  decay,  and  the 
alcoves  and  summer-houses  had  dropped  down,  or 
were  roofless,  and  exposed  to  the  weather.  It  was 
a  cheerless  prospect  to  contemplate,  but  he  could 
not  now  help  himself,  even  if  he  had  the  will  to  do 
so.  Day  after  day  the  same  scene  of  desolation 
presented  itself  to  his  eyes,  night  after  night  did 
the  same  cheerless  chamber  present  itself  to  his 
view.  It  was  his  own  doing.  That  he  could  not 
deny,  and  bitterly  he  rued  it.  To  crown  his  help- 
lessness and  misery,  his  vassals  and  domestic  ser- 
vants abandoned  him  by  degrees,  one  after  another, 
and  at  last  he  was  left  entirely  alone  in  the  house 
of  his  fathers — a  hermit  in  that  most  dismal  of  all 
solitudes,  the  desolate  scene  of  one's  childish,  one's 
happiest  recollections. 

One   evening   about  twilight,  as  he  sat  at    the 


38  GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

outer  gate,  looking  sadly  on  the  broad,  bright  river 
which  flowed  calmly  beneath,  he  became  aware  of 
the  presence  of  a  stranger,  who  seemed  to  toil 
wearily  up  tlie  steep  acclivity  on  the  summit  of 
which  the  castle  is  situated.  The  stranger — an 
unusual  sight  within  those  walls  then — soon  reached 
the  spot  where  Ulric  sat,  and,  greeting  the  youth  in 
the  fashion  of  the  times,  prayed  him  for  shelter 
during  the  night,  and  refreshment  after  his  most 
painful  journey. 

*'  I  am,"  quoth  the  stranger,  "  a  poor  pilgrim  on 
my  way  to  Cologne,  where,  by  the  merits  of  the 
three  wise  kings — to  whose  shrine  I  am  bound — I 
hope  to  succeed  in  the  object  of  my  journey." 

Graf  Ulric  von  Eheineck  at  once  accorded  him 
the  hospitality  he  required,  for  though  he  had  but 
scant  cheer  for  himself,  and  nought  of  comfort  to 
bestow,  he  had  still  some  of  the  feeling  of  a  gentle- 
man left  in  him. 

"  I  am  alone  here  now,"  said  he  to  the  pilgrim, 
with  a  deep  sigh.  "I  am  myself  as  poor  as  Job. 
Would  it  were  not  so  !  My  menials  have  left  me 
to  provide  for  themselves,  as  I  can  no  longer  pro- 
vide for  them.  'Twas  ever  the  way  of  the  world, 
and  I  blame  them  not  for  it.  The  last  departed 
yesterday.  He  was^  an  old  favourite  of  my  father's, 
and  he  once  thought  that  he  would  not  leave  my 
service  but  with  his  life.  We  must  now  look  to 
ourselves,  however, — at  least  so  he  said.     But  that 


THE   LEGEND   OF   RHEINECK.  39 

has  nothing  to  do  with  the  matter,  so  enter,  my 
friend." 

They  entered.  By  their  joint  exertions  a  simple 
evening  meal  was  soon  made  ready,  and  speedily 
spread  forth  on  a  half-rotten  plank,  their  only  table. 

"I  have  no  better  to  offer  you,"  observed  the 
young  Count,  "but  I  offer  you  what  I  have  with 
right  goodwill.     Eat,  if  you  can,  and  be  merry." 

They  ate  in  silence,  neither  speaking  during  the 
meal. 

"  Surely,"  said  the  pilgrim,  when  it  was  over, — 
"  surely  it  may  not  be  that  the  extensive  cellars  of 
this  great  castle  contain  not  a  single  cup  of  wine 
for  the  weary  wayfarer." 

The  Count  was  at  once  struck  by  the  idea.  It 
seemed  to  him  as  if  he  had  never  thought  of  it 
before,  though  in  reality  he  had  ransacked  every 
corner  of  the  cellars  more  than  once. 

"Come,  let  us  go  together  and  try,"  continued 
the  pilgrim ;  "  it  will  go  hard  with  us  if  we  find 
nought  to  wash  down  our  homely  fare." 

Accompanied  by  his  persuasive  guest,  the  Count 
descended  to  the  vaults,  where  the  wines  of  Eheineck 
had  been  stored  for  ages.  Dark  and  dreary  did  they 
seem  to  him.  A  chill  fell  on  his  soul  as  he  strode 
over  the  mouldy  floor. 

"  Here,"  said  the  pilgrim,  with  great  glee, — "  here, 
here !  Look  ye,  my  master,  look  ye  !  See  !  I  have 
found  a  cup  of  the  best," 


40         GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

The  Count  passed  into  a  narrow  cellar  whither 
the  pilgrim  had  preceded  him.  There  stood  his 
companion  beside  a  full  butt  of  burgundy,  holding 
in  his  hand  a  massive  silver  cup,  foaming  over  with 
the  generous  beverage,  and  with  the  other  he 
pointed  exultingly  to  his  prize.  The  scene  seemed 
like  a  dream  to  Ulric.  The  place  was  wholly  un- 
known to  him.  The  circumstances  were  most 
extraordinary.  He  mused  a  moment,  but  he  knew 
not  what  to  do  in  the  emergency. 

"  We  will  enjoy  ourselves  here,"  said  the  pilgrim. 
"  Here,  on  this  very  spot,  shall  we  make  us  merry  ! 
Ay,  here,  beside  this  noble  butt  of  burgundy.  See, 
'tis  the  best  vintage  !     Let  us  be  of  good  cheer  !  " 

The  Count  and  his  boon  companion  sat  down  on 
two  empty  casks,  and  a  third  served  them  for  a  table. 
They  plied  the  brimming  beakers  with  right  good- 
will; they  drank  with  all  their  might  and  main. 
The  Count  became  communicative,  and  talked  about 
his  private  affairs,  as  men  in  liquor  will.  The 
pilgrim,  however,  preserved  a  very  discreet  silence, 
only  interrupting  by  an  occasional  interjection  of 
delight,  or  an  opportune  word  of  encouragement  to 
his  garrulous  friend. 

"  I  '11  tell  you  what,"  began  the  pilgrim,  when 
the  Count  had  concluded  his  tale, — "  I  '11  tell  you 
what.  Listen  :  I  know  a  way  to  get  you  out  of 
your  difficulties,  to  rid  you  of  all  your  embarrass- 
ments." 


THE   LEGEND    OF   RHEINECK.  41 

The  Count  looked  at  him  incredulously  for  a 
moment ;  his  eye  could  not  keep  itself  steady  for  a 
longer  space  of  time.  There  was  something  in  the 
pilgrim's  glance  as  it  met  his  that  greatly  dissipated 
his  unbelief,  and  he  inquired  of  him  how  these 
things  could  be  brought  about. 

"  But,  mayhap,"  continued  the  pilgrim,  apparently 
disregarding  the  manifest  change  in  his  companion's 
impressions  regarding  him, — "  mayhap  you  would  be 
too  faint-hearted  to  follow  my  advice  if  I  gave  it 

you." 

The  Count  sprang  on  his  feet  in  a  trice,  and  half- 
unsheathed  his  sword  to  avenge  this  taunt  on  his 
manhood,  but  the  pilgrim  looked  so  unconcerned, 
and  evinced  so  little  emotion  at  this  burst  of  anger, 
that  the  action  and  its  result  were  merely  momentary. 
Ulric  resumed  his  seat,  and  the  pilgrim  proceeded — 

"You  tell  me  that  you  once  heard  from  your 
father,  who  had  it  from  his  father,  that  your  great- 
gi'andfather,  in  the  time  when  this  castle  was 
beleaguered  by  the  Emperor  Conrad,  buried  a  vast 
treasure  in  some  part  of  it,  but  which  part  his 
sudden  death  prevented  him  from  communicating  to 
his  successor  f 

The  Count  nodded  acquiescence. 

"  It  is  even  so,"  he  said. 

"In  Eastern  lands  have  I  learned  to  discover 
where  concealed  treasures  are  hidden,"  pursued  the 
pilgrim ;  "  and " 


42  GERMAN    FOLKLOllE   TALES. 

The  Count  grasped  him  by  the  hand. 

"  Find  them,"  he  cried, — "  find  them  for  me,  and 
a  full  half  is  thine !  Oh,  there  is  gold,  and  there 
are  diamonds  and  precious  stones  of  all  kinds. 
They  are  there  in  abundance.  My  father  said  so  ! 
'Tis  true,  'tis  true  !  Find  them,  find  them,  and  then 
shall  this  old  hall  ring  once  more  with  the  voice  of 
merriment.  Then  shall  we  live  !  ay,  we  shall  live  ! 
that  we  shall." 

The  pilgrim  did  not  attempt  to  interrupt  his 
ecstasies,  or  to  interpose  between  him  and  the  excess 
of  his  glee,  but  let  him  excite  himself  to  the  highest 
pitch  with  pictures  of  the  pleasing  future,  until  they 
had  acquired  almost  the  complexion  of  fact  and  the 
truth  of  reality  for  his  distracted  imagination. 
When  he  had  exhausted  himself,  the  wily  tempter 
resumed — 

"  Oh  yes,  I  know  it  all.  I  know  where  the 
treasure  is.  I  can  put  your  finger  on  it  if  I  like. 
I  was  present  when  the  old  man  buried  it  in 
the " 

"You  present!"  exclaimed  Ulric,  his  hair  standing 
on  end  with  horror,  for  he  had  no  doubts  of  the 
truth  of  the  mysterious  stranger's  statements, — "  you 
present !" 

"  Yes,"  resumed  the  pilgrim ;    "  I  was  present." 

"  But  he  is  full  a  hundred  years  dead  and  buried," 
continued  the  Count. 

"  No  matter  for  that,  no  matter  for  that,"  replied 


THE   LEGEND    OF   RHEINECK.  43 

the  guest  abruptly ;  "  many  and  many  a  time  have 
we  drunk  and  feasted  and  revelled  together  in  this 
vault — ay,  in  this  very  vault." 

The  Count  knew  not  what  to  think,  still  less  what 
to  reply  to  this  information.  He  could  not  fail  to 
perceive  its  improbability,  drunk  as  he  was,  but  still 
he  could  not,  for  the  life  of  him,  discredit  it. 

"  But,"  added  the  pilgrim,  "  trouble  not  yourself 
with  that  at  present  which  you  have  not  the  power 
to  comprehend,  and  speculate  not  on  my  proceedings, 
but  listen  to  my  words,  and  follow  my  advice,  if  you 
will  that  I  should  serve  you  in  the  matter." 

The  Count  was  silent  when  the  stranger  pro- 
ceeded. 

"This  is  Walpurgis  night,"  he  said.  "All  the 
spirits  of  earth  and  sea  and  sky  are  now  abroad 
on  their  way  to  the  Brocken.  Hell  is  broke  loose, 
you  know,  for  its  annual  orgies  on  that  mountain. 
When  the  castle  clock  tolls  twelve  go  you  into  the 
chapel,  and  proceed  to  the  graves  of  your  grand- 
father, your  great-grandfather,  and  your  great-great- 
grandfather ;  take  from  their  coffins  the  bones  of 
their  skeletons — take  them  all,  mind  ye.  One  by 
one  you  must  then  remove  them  into  the  moonlight, 
outside  the  walls  of  the  building,  and  there  lay  them 
softly  on  the  bit  of  green  sward  which  faces  to  the 
south.  This  done,  you  must  next  place  them  in  the 
order  in  which  they  lay  in  their  last  resting-place. 
When   you    have    completed    that  task,  you  must 


44  GERMAN   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

return  to  the  chapel,  and  in  their  coffins  you  will 
find  the  treasures  of  your  forefathers.  No  one  has 
power  over  an  atom  of  them,  until  the  bones  of 
those  who  in  spirit  keep  watch  and  ward  over  them 
shall  have  been  removed  from  their  guardianship. 
So  long  as  they  rest  on  them,  or  oversee  them,  to 
the  dead  they  belong.  It  is  a  glorious  prize.  'Twill 
be  the  making  of  you,  man,  for  ever  !" 

Ulric  was  shocked  at  the  proposal.  To  desecrate 
the  graves  of  his  fathers  was  a  deed  which  made 
him  shudder,  and,  bad  as  he  was,  the  thought  filled 
him  with  the  greatest  horror,  but  the  temptation 
was  irresistible. 

At  the  solemn  hour  of  midnight  he  proceeded  to 
the  chapel,  accompanied  by  the  pilgrim.  He  entered 
the  holy  place  with  trembling,  for  his  heart  misgave 
him.  The  pilgrim  stayed  without,  apparently 
anxious  and  uneasy  as  to  the  result  of  the  experi- 
ment about  to  be  made.  To  all  the  solicitations  of 
the  Count  for  assistance  in  his  task  he  turned  a  deaf 
ear ;  nothing  that  he  could  say  could  induce  him  to 
set  foot  within  the  chapel  walls. 

Ulric  opened  the  graves  in  the  order  in  which 
they  were  situated,  beginning  with  the  one  first 
from  the  door  of  the  chapel.  He  proceeded  to 
remove  the  rotting  remains  from  their  mouldering 
coffins.  One  by  one  did  he  bear  their  bleached 
bones  into  the  open  air,  as  he  had  been  instructed, 
and  placed  them  as  they  had  lain  in  their  narrow 


THE   LEGEND    OF   RHETNECK.  45 

beds,  under  the  pale  moonbeams,  on  the  plot  of 
green  sward  facing  the  south,  outside  the  chapel 
walls.  The  coffins  were  all  cleared  of  their  tenants, 
except  one  which  stood  next  to  the  altar,  at  the 
upper  end  of  the  aisle.  Ulric  approached  this  also 
to  perform  the  wretched  task  he  had  set  himself,  the 
thoughts  of  the  treasure  he  should  become  possessed 
of  but  faintly  sustaining  his  sinking  soul  in  the  fear- 
ful operation.  Removing  the  lid  of  this  last  resting- 
place  of  mortality,  his  heart  failed  him  at  the  sight 
he  beheld.  There  lay  extended,  as  if  in  deep  sleep, 
the  corpse  of  a  fair  child,  fresh  and  comely,  as  if  it 
still  felt  and  breathed  and  had  lusty  being.  The 
weakness  Ulric  felt  was  but  momentary.  His  com- 
panion called  aloud  to  him  to  finish  his  task  quickly, 
or  the  hour  would  have  passed  when  his  labour 
would  avail  him.  As  he  touched  the  corpse  of  the 
infant  the  body  stirred  as  if  it  had  sensation.  He 
shrank  back  in  horror  as  the  fair  boy  rose  gently  in 
his  coffin,  and  at  length  stood  upright  within  it. 

"Bring  back  yon  bones,"  said  the  phantom  babe, — 
"  bring  back  yon  bones ;  let  them  rest  in  peace  in 
the  last  home  of  their  fathers.  The  curse  of  the 
dead  will  be  on  you  otherwise.  Back  !  back  !  bring 
them  back  ere  it  be  too  late." 

The  corpse  sank  down  in  the  coffin  again  as  it 
uttered  these  words,  and  Ulric  saw  a  skeleton  lying 
in  its  place.  Shuddering,  he  averted  his  gaze,  and 
turned  it  towards  the  chapel  door,  where  he  had  left 


46  GERMAN   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

his  companion.  But,  horror  upon  horror !  as  he 
looked  he  saw  the  long,  loose,  dark  outer  garment 
fall  from  the  limbs  of  the  pilgrim.  He  saw  his  form 
dilate  and  expand  in  height  and  in  breadth,  until 
his  head  seemed  to  touch  the  pale  crescent  moon, 
and  his  bulk  shut  out  from  view  all  beyond  itself 
He  saw  his  eyes  firing  and  flaming  like  globes  of 
lurid  light,  and  he  saw  his  hair  and  beard  converted 
into  one  mass  of  living  flame.  The  fiend  stood 
revealed  in  all  his  hideous  deformity. 

His  hands  were  stretched  forth  to  fasten  on  the 
hapless  Count,  who,  with  vacillating  step,  like  the 
bird  under  the  eye  of  the  basilisk,  involuntarily, 
though  with  a  perfect  consciousness  of  his  awful 
situation,  and  the  fearful  fate  which  awaited  him, 
every  moment  drew  nearer  and  nearer  to  him.  The 
victim  reached  the  chapel  door — he  felt  all  the 
power  of  that  diabolical  fascination — another  step 
and  he  would  be  in  the  grasp  of  the  fiend  who 
grinned  to  clutch  him.  But  the  fair  boy  who  spoke 
from  the  grave  suddenly  appeared  once  more,  and, 
flinging  himself  between  the  wretched  Count  and  the 
door,  obstructed  his  further  progress. 

"  Avaunt,  foul  fiend  ! "  spake  the  child,  and  his 
voice  was  like  a  trumpet-note ;  "  avaunt  to  hell !  He 
is  no  longer  thine.  Thou  hast  no  power  over  him. 
Your  hellish  plot  has  failed.  He  is  free,  and  shall 
live  and  repent." 

As  he  said  this  he  threw  his  arms  around  Ulric, 


THE   LEGEND    OF   RHEINECK.  47 

and  the  Count  became,  as  it  were,  at  once  surrounded 
by  a  beatific  halo,  which  lighted  up  the  chapel  like 
day.  The  fiend  fled  howling  like  a  wild  beast  dis- 
appointed of  its  prey. 

The  remains  of  his  ancestors  were  again  replaced 
in  their  coffins  by  the  Count,  long  ere  the  morning 
broke,  and  on  their  desecrated  graves  he  poured 
forth  a  flood  of  repentant  tears.  With  the  dawn  of 
day  he  quitted  the  castle  of  Eheineck.  It  is  said  that 
he  traversed  the  land  in  the  garb  of  a  lowly  mendi- 
cant, subsisting  on  the  alms  of  the  charitable,  and  it 
is  likewise  told  that  he  did  penance  at  every  holy 
shrine  from  Cologne  to  Rome,  whither  he  was  bound 
to  obtain  absolution  for  his  sins.  Years  afterwards 
he  was  found  dead  at  the  foot  of  the  ancient  altar 
in  the  ruined  chapel.  The  castle  went  to  ruin,  and 
for  centuries  nought  ever  dwelt  within  its  walls  save 
the  night-birds  and  the  beasts  of  prey. 

Of  the  original  structure  the  ruins  of  one  old  tower 
are  all  that  now  remain.  It  is  still  firmly  believed 
by  the  peasants  of  the  neighbourhood,  that  in  the 
first  and  the  last  quarter  of  the  moon  the  spirit  of 
Ulric,  the  last  of  the  old  lords  of  Eheineck,  still 
sweeps  around  the  ruin  at  the  hour  of  midnight,  and 
is  occasionally  visible  to  belated  wanderers. 


TEE  CELLAE  OF  THE  OLD  KNIGHTS 
IN  THE  KYFFHAUSEE. 

There  was  a  poor,  but  worthy,  and  withal  very 
merry,  fellow  at  Tilleda,  who  was  once  put  to  the 
expense  of  a  christening,  and,  as  luck  would  have 
it,  it  was  the  eighth.  According  to  the  custom  of 
the  time,  he  was  obliged  to  give  a  plain  feast  to  the 
child's  sponsors.  The  wine  of  the  country  which 
he  put  before  his  guests  was  soon  exhausted,  and 
they  began  to  call  for  more. 

"  Go,"  said  the  merry  father  of  the  newly  bap- 
tized child  to  his  eldest  daughter,  a  handsome  girl 
of  sixteen, — "  go,  and  get  us  better  wine  than  this 
out  of  the  cellar." 

"  Out  of  what  cellar  1  " 

"Why,  out  of  the  great  wine-cellar  of  the  old 
Knights  in  the  Kyffhauser,  to  be  sure,"  said  her 
father  jokingly. 

The  simple-minded  girl  did  as  he  told  her,  and 
taking  a  small  pitcher  in  her  hand  went  to  the 
mountain.  In  the  middle  of  the  mountain  she 
found  an  aged  housekeeper,  dressed  in  a  very  old- 

48 


CELLA.R  OF  OLD  KNIC4HTS  IN  THE  KYFFHAUSER.        49 

fashioned  style,  with  a  large  bundle  of  keys  at  her 
girdle,  sitting  at  the  ruined  entrance  of  an  immense 
cellar.  The  girl  was  struck  dumb  with  amazement, 
but  the  old  woman  said  very  kindly — 

"  Of  a  surety  you  want  to  draw  wine  out  of  the 
Knights'  cellar  1 " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  girl  timidly,  "  but  I  have  no 
money." 

"  Never  mind  that,"  said  the  old  woman  ;  "  come 
with  me,  and  you  shall  have  wine  for  nothing,  and 
better  wine  too  than  your  father  ever  tasted." 

So  the  tw^o  went  together  through  the  half- 
blocked-up  entrance,  and  as  they  went  along  the 
old  woman  made  the  girl  tell  her  how  affairs  were 
going  on  at  that  time  in  Tilled  a. 

"For  once,"  said  she,  "when  I  was  young,  and 
good-looking  as  you  are,  the  Knights  stole  me  away 
in  the  night-time,  and  brought  me  through  a  hole 
in  the  ground  from  the  very  house  in  Tilleda  which 
now  belongs  to  your  father.  Shortly  before  that 
they  had  carried  away  by  force  from  Kelbra,  in 
broad  daylight,  the  four  beautiful  damsels  who 
occasionally  still  ride  about  here  on  horses  richly 
caparisoned,  and  then  disappear  again.  As  for  me, 
as  soon  as  I  grew  old,  they  made  me  their  butler, 
and  I  have  been  so  ever  since." 

They  had  now  reached  the  cellar  door,  which  the 
old  woman  opened.  It  was  a  very  large  roomy 
cellar,  wdth  barrels  ranged  along  both  sides.     The 

D 


50         GEKMAX  FOLKLOKE  TALES. 

old  woman  rapped  against  the  barrels — some  were 
quite  full,  some  were  only  half  full.  She  took  the 
little  pitcher,  drew  it  full  of  wine,  and  said — 

"  There,  take  that  to  your  father,  and  as  often  as 
you  have  a  feast  in  your  house  you  may  come  here 
again;  but,  mind,  tell  nobody  but  your  father 
where  you  get  the  Avine  from.  Mind,  too,  you  must 
never  sell  any  of  it — it  costs  nothing,  and  for 
nothing  you  must  give  it  away.  Let  any  one  but 
come  here  for  wine  to  make  a  profit  off  it  and  his 
last  bread  is  baked." 

The  girl  took  the  wine  to  her  father,  whose 
guests  were  highly  delighted  with  it,  and  sadly 
puzzled  to  think  where  it  came  from,  and  ever 
afterwards,  when  there  was  a  little  merry-making 
in  the  house,  would  the  girl  fetch  wine  from  the 
Kyffhauser  in  her  little  pitcher.  But  this  state  of 
things  did  not  continue  long.  The  neighbours 
wondered  where  so  poor  a  man  contrived  to  get 
such  delicious  wine  that  there  was  none  like  it  in 
the  whole  country  round.  The  father  said  not  a 
word  to  any  one,  and  neither  did  his  daughter. 

Opposite  to  them,  however,  lived  the  publican 
who  sold  adulterated  wine.  He  had  once  tasted  the 
Old  Knights'  wine,  and  thought  to  himself  that  one 
might  mix  it  with  ten  times  the  quantity  of  water 
and  sell  it  for  a  good  price  after  all.  Accordingly, 
when  the  girl  went  for  the  fourth  time  with  her 
little  pitcher  to  the  Kyffhauser,  he  crept  after  her, 


CELLAR  OF  OLD  KNIGHTS  IN  THE  KYFFHAUSER.   51 

and  concealed  himself  among  the  bushes,  where  he 
watched  until  he  saw  her  come  out  of  the  entrance 
which  led  to  the  cellar,  with  her  pitcher  filled  with 
wine. 

On  the  following  evening  he  himself  went  to  the 
mountain,  pushing  before  him  in  a  wheelbarrow  the 
largest  empty  barrel  he  could  procure.  This  he 
thought  of  filling  with  the  choicest  wine  in  the 
cellar,  and  in  the  night  rolling  it  down  the  moun- 
tain, and  in  this  way  he  intended  to  come  every 
day,  as  long  as  there  was  any  wine  left  in  the 
cellar. 

When,  however,  he  came  to  the  place  where  he 
had  the  day  before  seen  the  entrance  to  the  cellar, 
it  grew  all  of  a  sudden  totally  dark.  The  wind 
began  to  howl  fearfully,  and  a  monster  threw  him, 
his  barrow,  and  empty  butt,  from  one  ridge  of  rocks 
to  another,  and  he  kept  falling  lower  and  lower, 
until  at  last  he  fell  into  a  cemetery. 

There  he  saw  before  him  a  coflBn  covered  with 
black,  and  his  wife  and  four  of  her  gossips,  whom 
he  knew  well  by  their  dress  and  figures,  were 
following  a  bier.  His  fright  was  so  great  that  he 
swooned  away. 

After  some  hours  he  came  to  himself  again,  and 
saw,  to  his  horror,  that  he  was  still  in  the  dimly 
lighted  vaults,  and  heard  just  above  his  head  the 
well-known  town  clock  of  Tilleda  strike  twelve,  and 
thereby  he  knew  that  it  was  midnight,  and  that  he 


52         GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

was  then  under  the  church,  in  the  burying-|jlace  of 
the  town.  He  was  more  dead  than  alive,  and 
scarcely  dared  to  breathe. 

Presently  there  came  a  monk,  who  led  him  up  a 
long,  long  flight  of  steps,  opened  a  door,  placed, 
without  speaking,  a  piece  of  gold  in  his  hand,  and 
deposited  him  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  It  was 
a  cold  frosty  night.  By  degrees  the  publican 
recovered  himself,  and  crept,  without  barrel  or 
wine,  back  to  his  own  home.  The  clock  struck 
one  as  he  reached  the  door.  He  immediately  took 
to  his  bed,  and  in  three  days  was  a  dead  man,  and 
the  piece  of  gold  which  the  wizard  monk  had  given 
him  was  expended  on  his  funeral. 


THE  FISHEEMAN  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

There  was  once  a  fisherman  who  lived  with  his 
wife  in  a  ditch  close  by  the  seaside.  The  fisherman 
used  to  go  out  all  day  long  a-fishing,  and  one  day 
as  he  sat  on  the  shore  with  his  rod,  looking  at  the 
shining  v.'ater  and  watching  his  line,  all  of  sudden 
his  float  was  dragged  away  deep  under  the  sea.  In 
drawing  it  up  he  pulled  a  great  fish  out  of  the  water. 
The  fish  said  to  him — 

"  Pray  let  me  live.  I  am  not  a  real  fish.  I  am 
an  enchanted  prince.  Put  me  in  the  water  again 
and  let  me  go." 

"  Oh  !  "  said  the  man,  "  you  need  not  make  so 
many  words  about  the  matter.  I  w4sh  to  have 
nothing  to  do  with  a  fish  that  can  talk,  so  swim 
away  as  soon  as  you  please." 

Then  he  put  him  back  into  the  water,  and  the 
fish  darted  straight  down  to  the  bottom,  and  left  a 
long  streak  of  blood  behind  him. 

When  the  fisherman  went  home  to  his  wife  in 
the  ditch,  he  told  her  how  he  had  caught  a  great 
fish,  and  how  it  had  told  him  it  was  an  enchanted 

53 


54         GEEMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

prince,  and  that  on  hearing  it  speak  he  had  let  it 
go  again. 

"  Did  you  not  ask  it  for  anything  1 "  said  the  wife. 

"  No,"  said  the  man ;  "  what  should  I  ask  it  for  1 " 

"  Ah  !  "  said  the  wife,  "  we  live  very  wretchedly 
here  in  this  nasty  miserable  ditch,  do  go  back  and 
tell  the  fish  we  want  a  little  cottage." 

The  fisherman  did  not  much  like  the  business ; 
however,  he  went  to  the  sea,  and  when  lie  came 
there  the  water  looked  all  yellow  and  green.  He 
sat  at  the  water's  edge  and  said — 

"O  man  of  the  sea, 
Come  Hsten  to  me, 
For  Alice  my  wife. 
The  plague  of  my  life, 
Hath  sent  me  to  beg  a  boon  of  thee  !  " 

Then  the  fish  came  swimming  to  him  and  said — 

*'  Well,  what  does  she  want  *?  " 

"  Ah ! "  answered  the  fisherman,  "  my  wife  says 
that  when  I  had  caught  you,  I  ought  to  have  asked 
you  for  something  before  I  let  you  go  again.  She 
does  not  like  living  any  longer  in  the  ditch,  and 
wants  a  little  cottage. 

"  Go  home,  then,"  said  the  fish ;  "  she  is  in  the 
cottage  already." 

So  the  man  went  home,  and  saw  his  wife  standing 
at  the  door  of  a  cottage. 

"  Come  in,  come  in,"  said  she.  "  Is  not  this  much 
better  than  the  ditch  1 " 


THE   FISHERMAN   AND    HIS   WIFE.  55 

There  was  a  parlour,  a  bedchamber,  and  a  kit- 
chen ;  and  behind  the  cottage  there  was  a  little 
garden  with  all  sorts  of  flowers  and  friits,  and  a 
courtyard  full  of  ducks  and  chickens. 

"Ah,"  said  the  fisherman,  "how  happily  we  shall 
live !  " 

"  We  will  try  to  do  so,  at  least,"  said  his  wife. 

Everything  went  right  for  a  week  or  two,  and 
then  Dame  Alice  said — 

"  Husband,  there  is  not  room  enough  in  this 
cottage,  the  courtyard  and  garden  are  a  great  deal 
too  small.  I  should  like  to  have  a  large  stone  castle 
to  live  in,  so  go  to  the  fish  again  and  tell  him  to 
give  us  a  castle." 

"  Wife,"  said  the  fisherman,  "  I  don't  like  to  go 
to  him  again,  for  perhaps  he  will  be  angry.  We 
ought  to  be  content  with  the  cottage." 

"  Nonsense  !  "  said  the  wife,  "  he  will  do  it  very 
willingly.      Go  along  and  try." 

The  fisherman  went,  but  his  heart  was  very  heavy, 
and  when  he  came  to  the  sea  it  looked  blue  and 
gloomy,  though  it  was  quite  calm.  He  went  close 
to  it,  and  said — 

"  0  man  of  the  sea, 
Come  listen  to  me, 
For  Alice  my  wife, 
The  plague  of  my  life, 
Hath  sent  me  to  beg  a  boon  of  thee  !  " 

*'  Well,  what  does  she  want  now  1 "  said  the  fish. 


56         GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

"  Ah  ! "  said  the  man  very  sorrowfully,  "  my  Avife 
wants  to  live  in  a  stone  castle." 

"  Go  home,  then,"  said  the  fish  ;  "  she  is  standing 
at  the  door  of  it  already." 

Away  went  the  fisherman,  and  found  his  wife 
standing  before  a  great  castle. 

"  See,"  said  she,  "  is  not  this  grand  1  " 

With  that  they  went  into  the  house  together,  and 
found  a  great  many  servants  there,  the  rooms  all 
richly  furnished,  and  full  of  golden  chairs  and 
tables ;  and  behind  the  castle  was  a  garden,  and  a 
wood  half  a  mile  long,  full  of  sheep,  goats,  hares, 
and  deer;  and  in  the  courtyard  were  stables  and 
cow-houses. 

"  Well,"  said  the  man,  "  now  will  we  live  con- 
tented and  happy  for  the  rest  of  our  lives." 

"  Perhaps  we  may,"  said  the  wife,  "  but  let  us 
consider  and  sleep  upon  it  before  we  make  up  our 
minds;"  so  they  went  to  bed. 

The  next  morning  when  Dame  Alice  awoke  it 
was  broad  daylight,  and  she  jogged  the  fisherman 
with  her  elbow,  and  said — 

"Get  up,  husband,  and  bestir  yourself,  for  we 
must  be  king  of  all  the  land." 

"  Wife,  wife,"  said  the  man,  "  why  should  we 
wish  to  be  king  1     I  will  not  be  king." 

"  Then  I  will,"  said  Alice. 

"But,  wife,"  answered  the  fisherman,  "how  can 
you  be  king  1     The  fish  cannot  make  you  king." 


THE   FISHERMAN   AND   HIS   WIFE.  57 

"  Husband,"  said  she,  "  say  no  more  about  it,  but 
go  and  try.     I  will  be  king." 

So  the  man  went  away  quite  sorrowful,  to  think 
that  his  wife  should  want  to  be  king.  The  sea 
looked  a  dark  grey  colour,  and  was  covered  with 
foam,  as  he  called  the  fish  to  come  and  help  him. 

"Well,  what  would  she  have  now^"  asked  the 
fish. 

"  Alas  I "  said  the  man,  "  my  wife  wants  to  be 
king." 

"  Go  home,"  said  the  fish,  "  she  is  king  already." 

Then  the  fisherman  went  home,  and  as  he  came 
close  to  the  palace  he  saw  a  troop  of  soldiers,  and 
heard  the  sound  of  drums  and  trumpets ;  and  when 
he  entered,  he  saw  his  wife  sitting  on  a  high  throne 
of  gold  and  diamonds,  with  a  golden  crown  upon 
her  head,  and  on  each  side  of  her  stood  six  beautiful 
maidens. 

"  Well,  wife,"  said  the  fisherman,  "  are  you  king !  " 

"Yes,"  said  she,  "I  am  king." 

When  he  had  looked  at  her  for  a  long  time,  he 
said — 

"  Ah !  wife,  what  a  fine  thing  it  is  to  be  king ! 
now  we  shall  never  have  anything  more  to  wish 
for." 

"I  don't  know  how  that  may  be,"  said  she. 
"  Never  is  a  long  time.  I  am  king,  'tis  true  ;  but  I 
begin  to  be  tired  of  it,  and  I  think  I  should  like  to 
be  emperor." 


58         GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

"Alas!  wife,  why  should  you  wish  to  he  em- 
peror 'i  "  said  the  fisherman. 

"  Husband,"  said  she,  "  go  to  the  fish.  I  say  I 
will  be  emperor." 

"Ah!  wife,"  replied  the  fisherman,  "the  fish 
cannot  make  an  emperor ;  and  I  should  not  like  to 
ask  for  such  a  thing." 

"  I  am  king,"  said  Alice  ;  "  and  you  are  my  slave, 
so  go  directly." 

So  the  fisherman  was  obliged  to  go,  and  he  mut- 
tered as  he  went  along — 

"  This  will  come  to  no  good.  It  is  too  much  to 
ask.  The  fish  will  be  tired  at  last,  and  then  we 
shall  repent  of  what  we  have  done." 

He  soon  arrived  at  the  sea,  and  the  water  was 
quite  black  and  muddy,  and  a  mighty  whirlwind 
blew  over  it ;  but  he  went  to  the  shore,  and  repeated 
the  words  he  had  used  before. 

"What  would  she  have  now  1 "  inquired  the  fish. 

"  She  wants  to  be  emperor,"  replied  the  fisherman. 

"Go  home,"  said  the  fish,  "she  is  emperor  al- 
ready." 

So  he  went  home  again,  and  as  he  came  near,  he 
saw  his  wife  sitting  on  a  very  lofty  throne  made  of 
solid  gold,  with  a  crown  on  her  head,  full  two  yards 
high  ;  and  on  each  side  of  her  stood  her  guards  and 
attendants  in  a  row,  ranged  according  to  height, 
from  the  tallest  giant  to  a  little  dwarf,  no  bigger 
than   one's  finger.     And   before  her  stood  princes, 


THE   FISHERMAN   AND    HIS   WIFE.  59 

and  dukes,  and  earls ;  and  the  fisherman  went  up 
to  her,  and  said — 

"  Wife,  are  you  emperor  1 " 

"  Yes,"  said  she,  "  I  am  emperor." 

"  Ah  ! "  said  the  man,  as  he  gazed  on  her,  "  what 
a  fine  thing  it  is  to  be  emperor ! " 

"Husband,"  said  she,  "why  should  we  stay  at 
being  emperor  1     We  will  be  pope  next." 

"  0  wife,  wife !  "  said  he.  "  How  can  you  be 
pope  1  There  is  but  one  pope  at  a  time  in  Christen- 
dom." 

"  Husband,"  said  she,  "  I  will  be  pope  this  very 
day." 

"  But,"  replied  the  husband,  "  the  fish  cannot  make 
you  pope." 

"  What  nonsense ! "  said  she.  "  If  he  can  make  an 
emperor,  he  can  make  a  pope ;  go  and  try  him." 

So  the  fisherman  went;  but  when  he  came  to  the 
shore  the  wind  was  raging,  the  sea  was  tossed  up 
and  down  like  boiling  water,  and  the  ships  were  in 
the  greatest  distress  and  danced  upon  the  waves 
most  fearfully.  In  the  middle  of  the  sky  there  was 
a  little  blue ;  but  towards  the  south  it  was  all  red, 
as  if  a  dreadful  storm  was  rising.  The  fisherman 
repeated  the  words,  and  the  fish  appeared  before 
him. 

"What  does  she  want  novvV  asked  the  fish. 

"  My  wife  wants  to  be  l)ope,"  said  the  fisherman. 

"  Go  home,"  said  the  fish  ;  "  she  is  pope  already." 


60         GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

Then  the  fisherman  went  home,  and  found  his 
wife  sitting  on  a  throne,  with  three  crowns  on  her 
head,  while  around  stood  all  the  pomp  and  power 
of  the  Church.  On  each  side  were  two  rows  of 
burning  lights  of  all  sizes ;  the  greatest  as  large  as 
a  tower,  and  the  smallest  no  larger  than  a  rush- 
light. 

"  Well,  wife,"  said  the  fisherman,  as  he  looked  at 
all  this  grandeur,  "  are  you  pope  ?  " 

*'  Yes,"  said  she ;  "  I  am  pope." 

"Well,"  replied  he,  "it  is  a  grand  thing  to  be 
pope ;  and  now  you  must  be  content,  for  you  can  be 
nothing  greater." 

"  I  will  consider  about  that,"  replied  the  wife. 

Then  they  went  to  bed ;  but  Dame  Alice  could 
not  sleep  all  night  for  thinking  what  she  should  be 
next.     At  last  morning  came,  and  the  sun  rose. 

"  Ha !  "  thought  she,  as  she  looked  at  it  through 
the  window,  ''  cannot  I  prevent  the  sun  rising  1  " 

At  this  she  was  very  angry,  and  wakened  her 
husband,  and  said — 

"  Husband,  go  to  the  fish,  and  tell  him  I  want  to 
be  lord  of  the  sun  and  moon." 

The  fisherman  was  half  asleep ;  but  the  thought 
frightened  him  so  much  that  he  started  and  fell  out 
of  bed. 

"  Alas !  wife,"  said  he,  "  cannot  you  be  content 
to  be  pope  1  " 

"  No,"  said  she,  "  I  am  very  uneasy,  and  cannot 


THE   FISHERMAN   AND    HIS   WIFE.  61 

bear  to   see   the    sun  and  moon   rise    Avithout  my 
leave.     Go  to  the  fish  directly." 

Then  the  man  went  trembling  for  fear.  As  he 
was  going  down  to  the  shore  a  dreadful  storm  arose, 
so  that  the  trees  and  the  rocks  shook,  the  heavens 
became  black,  the  lightning  played,  the  thunder 
rolled,  and  the  sea  was  covered  with  black  waves 
like  mountains,  with  a  white  crown  of  foam  upon 
them.    The  fisherman  came  to  the  shore,  and  said — 

"  0  man  of  the  sea, 
Come  listen  to  me, 
For  Alice,  my  wife, 
The  plague  of  my  life. 
Hath  sent  me  to  beg  a  boon  of  thee  !  " 

"  What  does  she  want  now  ?  "  asked  the  fish. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  he,  "  she  wants  to  be  lord  of  the  sun 
and  moon." 

"  Go  home,"  replied  the  fish,  "  to  your  ditch 
again." 

And  there  they  live  to  this  very  day. 


THE  MOUSE  TOWEE. 

To  the  traveller  who  has  traversed  the  delightful 
environs  of  the  Rhine,  from  the  city  of  Mentz  as  far 
as  Coblentz,  or  from  the  clear  waves  of  this  old 
Germanic  stream  gazed  upon  the  grand  creations  of 
Nature,  all  upon  so  magnificent  a  scale,  the  appear- 
ance of  the  old  decayed  tower  which  forms  the 
subject  of  the  ensuing  tradition  forms  no  uninterest- 
ing object.  It  rises  before  him  as  he  mounts  the 
Rhine  from  the  little  island  below  Bingen,  toward 
the  left  shore.  He  listens  to  the  old  shipmaster  as 
he  relates  with  earnest  tone  the  wonderful  story  of 
the  tower,  and,  shuddering  at  the  description  of  the 
frightful  punishment  of  priestly  pride  and  cruelty, 
exclaims  in  strong  emotion — 

"  The  Lord  be  with  us  !  " 

For,  as  the  saying  runs,  it  was  about  the  year  of 
Our  Lord  968,  when  Hatto  ii.,  Duke  of  the  Ostro- 
franks,  surnamed  Bonosus,  Abbot  of  Fulda,  a  man 
of  singular  skill  and  great  spiritual  endowments, 
was  elected  Archbishop  of  Mentz.  He  was  also  a 
harsh  man,  and  being  extremely  avaricious,  heaped 

62 


THE    MOL'SE    TOWER.  63 

up  treasure  which  he  guarded  with  the  utmost 
care. 

It  so  happened,  under  his  spiritual  sway,  that  a 
cruel  famine  began  to  prevail  in  the  city  of  Mentz 
and  its  adjacent  parts,  insomuch  that  in  a  short 
time  numbers  of  the  poorer  people  fell  victims  to 
utter  want.  Crowds  of  wretches  were  to  be  seen 
assembled  before  the  Archbishop's  palace  in  the  act 
of  beseeching  with  cries  and  prayers  for  some  miti- 
gation of  their  heavy  lot. 

But  their  harsh  lord  refused  to  afford  relief  out 
of  his  own  substance,  reproaching  them  at  the  same 
time  as  the  authors  of  their  own  calamity  by  their 
indolence  and  want  of  economy.  But  the  poor 
souls  were  mad  for  food,  and  in  frightful  and 
threatening  accents  cried  out — 

"  Bread,  bread  ! " 

Fearing  the  result,  Bishop  Hatto  ordered  a  vast 
number  of  hungry  souls  to  range  themselves  in  order 
in  one  of  his  empty  barns  under  the  pretence  of 
supplying  them  with  provisions.  Then,  having 
closed  the  doors,  he  commanded  his  minions  to  fire 
the  place,  in  which  all  fell  victims  to  the  flames. 
When  he  heard  the  death  shouts  and  shrieks  of  the 
unhappy  poor,  turning  towards  the  menial  parasites 
who  abetted  his  crime  he  said — 

"  Hark  you  !   how  the  mice  squeak  !  " 

But  Heaven  that  witnessed  the  deed  did  not 
permit  its  vengeance  to  sleep.     A  strange  and  un- 


64         GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

heard  of  death  was  preparing  to  loose  its  terrors  upon 
the  sacrilegious  prelate.  For  behold,  there  arose  out 
of  the  yet  warm  ashes  of  the  dead  an  innumerable 
throng  of  mice  which  were  seen  to  approach  the 
Bishop,  and  to  follow  him  whithersoever  he  went. 
At  length  he  flew  into  one  of  his  steepest  and 
highest  towers,  but  the  mice  climbed  over  the  walls. 
He  closed  every  door  and  window,  yet  after  him 
they  came,  piercing  their  way  through  the  smallest 
nooks  and  crannies  of  the  building.  They  poured 
in  upon  him,  and  covered  him  from  head  to  foot,  in 
numberless  heaps.  They  bit,  they  scratched,  they 
tortured  his  flesh,  till  they  nearly  devoured  him. 
So  great  was  the  throng  that  the  more  his  domestics 
sought  to  beat  them  off,  the  more  keen  and  savagely, 
with  increased  numbers,  did  they  return  to  the 
charge.  Even  where  his  name  was  found  placed 
upon  the  walls  and  tapestries  they  gnawed  it  in 
their  rage  away. 

In  this  frightful  predicament  the  Bishop,  finding 
that  he  could  obtain  no  help  on  land,  bethought  of 
taking  himself  to  the  water.  A  tower  was  hastily 
erected  upon  the  Rhine.  He  took  ship  and  shut 
himself  up  there.  Enclosed  within  double  walls, 
and  surrounded  by  water,  he  flattered  himself  that 
the  rushing  stream  would  effectually  check  the  rage 
of  his  enemies.  Here  too,  however,  the  vengeance 
of  offended  Heaven  gave  them  entrance.  Myriads 
of  mice  took  to  the  stream,  and  swam  and  swam. 


THE   MOUSE  TOWEK.  65 

and  though  myriads  of  them  were  swept  away,  an 
innumerable  throng  still  reached  the  spot.  Again 
they  climbed  and  clattered  up  the  walls.  The 
Bishop  heard  their  approach.  It  was  his  last  retreat. 
They  rushed  in  upon  him  with  more  irresistible 
fury  than  before,  and,  amidst  stifled  cries  of  pro- 
tracted suffering,  Bishop  Hatto  at  length  rendered 
up  his  cruel  and  avaricious  soul. 


THE   DANCEES. 

The  Sabbath-day  drew  to  a  close  in  the  summer- 
tide  of  the  year  of  grace  one  thousand  and  one,  and 
the  rustics  of  Eamersdorf  amused  themselves  with  a 
dance,  as  was  their  wont  to  do,  in  the  courtyard  of 
the  monastery.  It  was  a  privilege  that  they  had 
enjoyed  time  immemorial,  and  it  had  never  been 
gainsaid  by  the  abbots  who  were  dead  and  gone, 
but  Anselm  von  Lowenberg,  the  then  superior  of  the 
convent,  an  austere,  ascetic  man,  who  looked  with 
disdain  and  dislike  on  all  popular  recreations,  had 
long  set  his  face  against  it,  and  had,  moreover,  tried 
every  means  short  of  actual  prohibition  to  put  an 
end  to  the  profane  amusement.  The  rustics,  how- 
ever, were  not  to  be  debarred  by  his  displeasure 
from  pursuing,  perhaps,  their  only  pleasure ;  and 
though  the  pious  abbot  discountenanced  their  pro- 
ceedings, they  acquiesced  not  in  his  views,  and  their 
enjoyment  was  not  one  atom  the  less. 

The  day  had  been  very  beautiful,  and  the  evening 
was,  if  possible,  more  so.  Gaily  garbed  maidens  of 
the  village  and  stalwart  rustics  filled  the  courtyard 


THE   DANCERS.  67 

of  the  convent.  A  blind  fiddler,  who  had  fiddled 
three  generations  off  the  stage,  sat  in  front  of  a 
group  of  elders  of  either  sex,  who,  though  too  old 
and  too  stiff  to  partake  in  the  active  and  exciting 
amusement,  were  still  young  enough  to  enjoy  looking 
on.  A  few  shaven  crowns  peered  from  the  latticed 
casements  which  looked  out  on  to  the  merry  scene. 
The  music  struck  up,  the  dance  began.  Who 
approaches'?  AVhy  are  so  many  anxious  glances 
cast  in  yonder  direction  ?     It  is  the  Abbot. 

"Cease  your  fooling,"  he  spake  to  them,  in  a 
solemn  tone ;  "  profane  not  the  place  nor  the  day 
with  your  idle  mirth.  Go  home,  and  pray  in  your 
own  homes  for  the  grace  of  the  Lord  to  govern  ye, 
for  ye  are  wicked  and  wilful  and  hard  of  heart  as 
the  stones !  " 

He  waved  his  hand  as  if  to  disperse  them,  but 
his  words  and  his  action  were  equally  unheeded  by 
the  dancers  and  the  spectators. 

"  Forth,  vile  sinners !  "  he  pursued.  "  Forth 
from  these  walls,  or  I  will  curse  ye  with  the  curse." 

Still  they  regarded  him  not  to  obey  his  behest, 
although  they  so  far  noticed  his  words  as  to  return 
menacing  look  for  look,  and  muttered  threats  for 
threat  with  him.  The  music  played  on  with  the 
same  liveliness,  the  dancers  danced  as  merrily  as 
ever,  and  the  spectators  applauded  each  display  of 
agility. 

"  Well,  then,"  spake    the  Abbot,  bursting    with 


68  GEEMAN   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

rage,  "  an  ye  cease  not,  be  my  curse  on  your  head — 
there  may  ye  dance  for  a  year  and  a  day  ! " 

He  banned  them  bitterly;  with  uplifted  hands 
and  eyes  he  imprecated  the  vengeance  of  Heaven  on 
their  disobedience.  He  prayed  to  the  Lord  to  punish 
them  for  the  slight  of  his  directions.  Then  he 
sought  his  cell  to  vent  his  ire  in  solitude. 

From  that  hour  they  continued  to  dance  until  a 
year  and  a  day  had  fully  expired.  Night  fell,  and 
they  ceased  not ;  day  dawned,  and  they  danced  still. 
In  the  heat  of  noon,  in  the  cool  of  the  evening,  day 
after  day  there  was  no  rest  for  them,  their  saltation 
was  without  end.  The  seasons  rolled  over  them. 
Summer  gave  place  to  autumn,  winter  succeeded 
summer,  and  spring  decked  the  fields  with  early 
flowers,  as  winter  slowly  disappeared,  yet  still  they 
danced  on,  through  coursing  time  and  changing 
seasons,  with  unabated  strength  and  unimpaired 
energy.  Eain  nor  hail,  snow  nor  storm,  sunshine 
nor  shade,  seemed  to  affect  them.  Round  and 
round  and  round  they  danced,  in  heat  and  cold,  in 
damp  and  dry,  in  light  and  darkness.  What  were 
the  seasons — what  the  times  or  the  hour  or  the 
weather  to  them?  In  vain  did  their  neighbours 
and  friends  try  to  arrest  them  in  their  wild  evolu- 
tions ;  in  vain  were  attempts  made  to  stop  them  in 
their  whirling  career;  in  vain  did  even  the  Abbot 
himself  interpose  to  relieve  them  from  the  curse 
he  had  laid  on   them,  and  to  put  a  period  to  the 


THE   DANCERS.  69 

punishment  of  which  he  had  been  the  cause.  The 
strongest  man  in  the  vicinity  held  out  his  hand  and 
caught  one  of  them,  with  the  intention  of  arresting 
his  rotation,  and  tearing  him  from  the  charmed 
circle,  but  his  arm  was  torn  from  him  in  the  attempt, 
and  clung  to  the  dancer  with  the  grip  of  life  till 
his  day  was  done.  The  man  paid  his  life  as  the 
forfeit  of  his  temerity.  No  effort  was  left  untried 
to  relieve  the  dancers,  but  every  one  failed.  The 
sufferers  themselves,  however,  appeared  quite  un- 
conscious of  what  was  passing.  They  seemed  to  be 
in  a  state  of  perfect  somnambulism,  and  to  be  alto- 
gether unaware  of  the  presence  of  any  persons,  as 
well  as  insensible  to  pain  or  fatigue.  When  the 
expiration  of  their  punishment  arrived,  they  were 
all  found  huddled  together  in  the  deep  cavity  which 
their  increasing  gyrations  had  worn  in  the  earth 
beneath  them.  It  was  a  considerable  time  before 
sense  and  consciousness  returned  to  them,  and 
indeed  they  never  after  could  be  said  to  enjoy  them 
completely,  for,  though  they  lived  long,  they  were 
little  better  than  idiots  during  the  remainder  of  their 
lives. 


THE  LITTLE  SHEOUD. 

There  was  once  a  woman  who  had  a  little  son  of 
about  seven  years  old,  who  was  so  lovely  and  beauti- 
ful that  no  one  could  look  upon  him  without  being 
kind  to  him,  and  he  was  dearer  to  her  than  all  the 
world  beside.  It  happened  that  he  suddenly  fell  ill 
and  died,  and  his  mother  would  not  be  comforted, 
but  wept  for  him  day  and  night.  Shortly  after  he 
was  buried  he  showed  himself  at  night  in  the  places 
where  he  had  been  used  in  his  lifetime  to  sit  and 
play,  and  if  his  mother  wept,  he  wept  also,  and  when 
the  morning  came  he  departed.  Since  his  mother 
never  ceased  weeping,  the  child  came  one  night  in 
the  little  white  shroud  in  which  he  had  been  laid  in 
his  coflSn,  and  with  the  chaplet  upon  his  head,  and 
seating  himself  at  her  feet,  upon  the  bed,  he 
cried — 

"  0  mother,  mother,  give  over  crying,  else  I  can- 
not stop  in  my  coffin,  for  my  shroud  is  never  dry 
because  of  your  tears,  for  they  fall  upon  it." 

When  his  mother  heard  this  she  was  sore  afraid, 
and    wept   no    more.     And    the    babe    came    upon 

70 


THE   LITTLE    SHROUD.  71 

another  night,  holding  in  his  hand  a  little  taper,  and 
he  said — 

"  Look,  mother,  my  shroud  is  now  quite  dry,  and 
I  can  rest  in  my  grave." 

Then  she  bowed  to  the  will  of  Providence,  and 
bore  her  sorrow  with  silence  and  patience,  and  the 
little  child  returned  not  again,  but  slept  in  his 
underground  bed. 


THE  AECH  EOGUR 

There  once  lived,  years  ago,  a  man  known  only  by 
the  name  of  the  Arch  Eogue.  By  dint  of  skill  in 
the  black  art,  and  all  arts  of  imposition,  he  drove  a 
more  flourishing  trade  than  all  the  rest  of  the  sor- 
cerers of  the  age.  It  was  his  delight  to  travel  from 
one  country  to  another  merely  to  play  upon  man- 
kind, and  no  living  soul  was  secure,  either  in  house 
or  field,  nor  could  properly  call  them  his  own. 

Now  his  great  reputation  for  these  speedy  methods 
of  possessing  himself  of  others'  property  excited  the 
envy  of  a  certain  king  of  a  certain  country,  who 
considered  them  as  no  less  than  an  invasion  of  his 
royal  prerogative.  He  could  not  sleep  a  wink  for 
thinking  about  it,  and  he  despatched  troops  of 
soldiers,  one  after  another,  with  strict  orders  to 
arrest  him,  but  all  their  search  was  in  vain.  At 
length,  after  long  meditation,  the  king  said  to  him- 
self— 

"  Only  wait  a  little,  thou  villain  cutpurse,  and  yet 
I  will  have  thee." 

Forthwith  he  issued  a  manifesto,  stating  that  the 

72 


THE   ARCH    ROGUE.  73 

royal  mercy  would  be  extended  to  so  light-fingered 
a  genius,  upon  condition  that  he  consented  to  appear 
at  court  and  give  specimens  of  his  dexterity  for  his 
majesty's  amusement. 

One  afternoon,  as  the  king  was  standing  at  his 
palace  window  enjoying  the  fine  prospect  of  woods 
and  dales,  over  which  a  tempest  appeared  to  be 
then  just  gathering,  some  one  suddenly  clapped  him 
upon  the  shoulder,  and  on  looking  round  he  dis- 
covered a  very  tall,  stout,  dark-whiskered  man  close 
behind  him,  who  said — 

'•'  Here  I  am." 

"Who  are  you?"  inquired  the  king. 

^  He  whom  you  look  for." 

The  king  uttered  an  exclamation  of  surprise,  not 
unmixed  with  fear,  at  such  amazing  assurance.  The 
stranger  continued,  "  Don't  be  alarmed.  Only  keep 
your  word  with  me,  and  I  will  prove  myself  quite 
obedient  to  your  orders." 

This  being  agreed  on,  the  king  acquainted  his 
royal  consort  and  the  whole  court  that  the  great 
sleight-of-hand  genius  had  discovered  himself,  and 
soon,  in  a  full  assembly,  his  majesty  proceeded  to 
question  him,  and  lay  on  him  his  commands. 

"  Mark  what  I  say,"  he  said,  "  nor  venture  to  dis- 
pute my  orders.  To  begin,  do  you  see  yon  rustic, 
not  far  from  the  wood,  busy  ploughing  1" 

The  conjurer  nodded  assent. 

"  Then  go,"  continued  the  king, — "  go  and  rob  him 


74  GERMAN   FOLKLORE   TALES 

of  his  plough  and  oxen  without  his  knowing  any- 
thing about  it." 

The  king  flattered  himself  that  this  was  impos- 
sible, for  he  did  not  conceive  how  the  conjurer 
could  perform  such  a  task  in  the  face  of  open  day, 
— and  if  he  fail,  thought  he,  I  have  him  in  ray  power, 
and  will  make  him  smart. 

The  conjurer  proceeded  to  the  spot,  and  as  the 
storm  appeared  to  increase,  the  rain  beginning  to 
pour  down  in  torrents,  the  countryman,  letting  his 
oxen  rest,  ran  under  a  tree  for  shelter,  until  the 
rain  should  have  ceased.  Just  then  he  heard  some 
one  singing  in  the  wood.  Such  a  glorious  song  he 
had  never  heard  before  in  all  his  life.  He  felt 
wonderfully  enlivened,  and,  as  the  weather  continued 
dull,  he  said  to  himself — 

"  "Well,  there 's  no  harm  in  taking  a  look.  Yes  ; 
I  '11  see  what  sport  is  stirring,"  and  away  he  slipped 
into  the  wood,  still  further  and  further,  in  search  of 
the  songster. 

In  the  meanwhile  the  conjurer  was  not  idle.  He 
changed  places  with  the  rustic,  taking  care  of  the 
oxen  while  their  master  went  searching  through  the 
wood.  Darting  out  of  the  thicket,  in  a  few  moments 
he  had  slashed  off"  the  oxen's  horns  and  tails,  and 
stuck  them,  half  hid,  in  the  ploughman's  last  furrow. 
He  then  drove  off  the  beasts  pretty  sharply  towards 
the  palace.  In  a  short  time  the  rustic  found  his 
way  back,   and    looking    towards   the  spot  for  his 


tHE   ARCH   ROGUE.  75 

oxen  could  see  nothing  of  them.  Searching  on  all 
sides,  he  came  at  last  to  examine  the  furrow,  and 
beheld,  to  his  horror,  the  horns  and  tails  of  his  poor 
beasts  sticking  out  of  the  ground.  Imagining  that 
a  thunderbolt  must  have  struck  the  beasts,  and  the 
earth  swallowed  them  up,  he  poured  forth  a  most 
dismal  lamentation  over  his  lot,  roaring  aloud  until 
the  woods  echoed  to  the  sound.  When  he  was 
tired  of  this,  he  bethought  him  of  running  home  to 
find  a  pick  and  a  spade  to  dig  his  unlucky  oxen  out 
of  the  earth  as  soon  as  possible. 

As  he  went  he  was  met  by  the  king  and  the  con- 
jurer, who  inquired  the  occasion  of  his  piteous 
lamentation. 

"My  oxen  !  my  poor  oxen!"  cried  the  boor,  and 
then  he  related  all  that  had  happened  to  him, 
entreating  them  to  go  with  him  to  the  place.  The 
conjurer  said — 

"  Why  don't  you  see  if  you  cannot  pull  the  oxen 
out  again  by  the  horns  or  by  the  tail  1 " 

With  this  the  rustic,  running  back,  seized  one  of 
the  tails,  and,  pulling  with  all  his  might,  it  gave  way 
and  he  fell  backward. 

"Thou  hast  pulled  thy  beast's  tail  off,"  said  the 
conjurer.  "  Try  if  thou  canst  succeed  better  with 
his  horns.     If  not,  thou  must  even  dig  them  out." 

Again  the  rustic  tried  with  the  same  result,  while 
the  king  laughed  very  heartily  at  the  sight.  As  the 
worthy  man  now  appeared  excessively  troubled  at 


76         GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

his  misfortunes,  the  king  promised  him  another  pair 
of  oxen,  and  the  rustic  was  content. 

"  You  have  made  good  your  boast,"  said  the  king 
to  the  conjurer,  as  they  returned  to  the  palace  ;  ''  but 
now  you  will  have  to  deal  with  a  more  difficult 
matter,  so  muster  your  wit  and  courage.  To-night 
you  must  steal  my  favourite  charger  out  of  his  stable, 
and  let  nobody  know  who  does  it." 

Now,  thought  the  king,  I  have  trapped  him  at 
last,  for  he  will  never  be  able  to  outwit  my  master 
of  the  horse,  and  all  my  grooms  to  boot.  To  make 
the  matter  sure,  he  ordered  a  strong  guard  under 
one  of  his  most  careful  officers  to  be  placed  round 
the  stable  court.  They  were  armed  with  stout 
battle-axes,  and  were  enjoined  every  half-hour  to 
give  the  word,  and  pace  alternately  through  the 
court.  In  the  royal  stables  others  had  the  like  duty 
to  perform,  while  the  master  of  the  horse  himself 
was  to  ride  the  favourite  steed  the  whole  time, 
having  been  presented  by  the  king  with  a  gold  snuff- 
box, from  which  he  was  to  take  ample  pinches  in 
order  to  keep  himself  awake,  and  give  signal  by  a 
loud  sneeze.  He  was  also  armed  with  a  heavy 
sword,  with  which  he  was  to  knock  the  thief  on  the 
head  if  he  approached. 

The  rogue  first  arrayed  himself  in  the  master  of 
the  bedchamber's  clothes,  without  his  leave.  About 
midnight  he  proceeded  to  join  the  guards,  furnished 
with  different  kinds  of  wine,  and  told  them  that  the 


THE   ARCH   ROGUE.  77 

king  had  sent  him  to  thank  them  for  so  cheerfully 
complying  with  his  orders.  He  also  informed  them 
that  the  impostor  had  been  already  caught  and 
secured,  and  added  that  the  king  had  given  permis- 
sion for  the  guards  to  have  a  glass  or  two,  and 
requested  that  they  would  not  give  the  word  quite 
so  loudly,  as  her  majesty  had  not  been  able  to  close 
her  eyes.  He  then  marched  into  the  stables,  where 
he  found  the  master  of  the  horse  astride  the  royal 
charger,  busily  taking  snuff  and  sneezing  at  inter- 
vals. The  master  of  the  bedchamber  poured  him  out 
a  sparkling  glass  to  drink  to  the  health  of  his 
majesty,  who  had  sent  it,  and  it  looked  too  excellent 
to  resist.  Both  master  and  guards  then  began  to 
jest  over  the  Arch  Rogue's  fate,  taking,  like  good 
subjects,  repeated  draughts — all  to  his  majesty's 
health.  At  length  they  began  to  experience  their 
effects.  They  gaped  and  stretched,  sank  gradually 
upon  the  ground,  and  fell  asleep.  The  master,  by 
dint  of  fresh  pinches,  was  the  last  to  yield,  but  he 
too  blinked,  stopped  the  horse,  which  he  had  kept 
at  a  walk,  and  said — 

"I  am  so  confoundedly  sleepy  I  can  hold  it  no 
longer.  Take  you  care  of  the  charger  for  a  moment. 
Bind  him  fast  to  the  stall — and  just  keep  watch." 

Having  uttered  these  words,  he  fell  like  a  heavy 
sack  upon  the  floor  and  snored  aloud.  The  con- 
jurer took  his  place  upon  the  horse,  gave  it  whip 
and  spur,  and  galloped  away  through  the  sleeping 


78  GERMAN   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

guards,  through  the  court  gates,  and  whistled  as  he 
weut. 

Early  in  the  morning  the  king,  eager  to  learn  the 
result,  hastened  to  his  royal  mews,  and  was  not  a  little 
surprised  to  find  the  whole  of  his  guards  fast  asleep 
upon  the  ground,  but  he  saw  nothing  of  his  charger. 

"  What  is  to  do  here  1 "  he  cried  in  a  loud  voice. 
"  Get  up  ;  rouse,  you  idle  varlets  !  " 

At  last  one  of  them,  opening  his  eyes,  cried  out — 

"The  king!  the  king!" 

"Ay,  true  enough,  I  am  here,"  replied  his 
majesty,  "but  my  favourite  horse  is  not.  Speak, 
answer  on  the  instant." 

AVhile  the  affrighted  wretches,  calling  one  to 
another,  rubbed  their  heavy  eyes,  the  king  was 
examining  the  stalls  once  more,  and,  stumbling  over 
his  master  of  the  horse,  turned  and  gave  him  some 
hearty  cuffs  about  the  ears.  But  the  master  only 
turned  upon  the  other  side,  and  grumbled — 

"Let  me  alone,  you  rascal,  my  royal  master's 
horse  is  not  for  the  like  of  you." 

"  Rascal ! "  exclaimed  the  king,  "  do  you  know  who 
it  is? "  and  he  was  just  about  to  call  his  attendants, 
when  he  heard  hasty  footsteps,  and  the  conjurer 
stood  before  him. 

"  My  liege,"  he  said,  "  I  have  just  returned  from 
an  airing  on  your  noble  horse.  He  is,  indeed,  a  fine 
animal,  but  once  or  so  I  was  obliged  to  give  him  the 
switch." 


THE  ARCH   ROGUE.  79 

The  king  felt  excessively  vexed  at  the  rogue's 
success,  but  he  was  the  more  resolved  to  hit  upon 
something  that  should  bring  his  fox  skin  into 
jeopardy  at  last.  So  he  thought,  and  the  next  day 
he  addressed  the  conjurer  thus — 

"  Thy  third  trial  is  now  about  to  take  place,  and 
if  you  are  clever  enough  to  carry  it  through,  you 
shall  not  only  have  your  life  and  liberty,  but  a 
handsome  allowance  to  boot.  In  the  other  case  you 
know  your  fate.  Now  listen.  This  very  night  I 
command  you  to  rob  my  queen  consort  of  her  bridal 
ring,  to  steal  it  from  her  finger,  and  let  no  one  know 
the  thief  or  the  way  of  thieving." 

When  night  approached,  his  majesty  caused  all 
the  doors  in  the  palace  to  be  fast  closed,  and  a 
guard  to  be  set  at  each.  He  himself,  instead  of 
retiring  to  rest,  took  his  station,  well  armed,  in  an 
easy  chair  close  to  the  queen's  couch. 

It  was  a  moonlight  night,  and  about  two  in  the 
morning  the  king  plainly  heard  a  ladder  reared  up 
against  the  window,  and  the  soft  step  of  a  man 
mounting  it.  When  the  king  thought  the  conjurer 
must  have  reached  the  top,  he  called  out  from  the 
window — 

"Let  fall." 

The  next  moment  the  ladder  was  dashed  away, 
and  something  fell  with  a  terrible  crash  to  the 
ground.  The  king  uttered  an  exclamation  of  alarm, 
and  ran  down  into  the  court,  telling  the  queen,  who 


80  GERMAN   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

was  half  asleep,  tliat  he  was  going  to  see  if  the 
conjurer  were  dead.  But  the  rogue  had  borrowed 
a  dead  body  from  the  gallows,  and  having  dressed 
it  in  his  own  clothes,  had  placed  it  on  the  ladder. 
Hardly  had  the  king  left  the  chamber  before  the 
conjurer  entered  it  and  said  to  the  queen  in  the 
king's  voice — 

"Yes,  he  is  stone  dead,  so  you  may  now  go 
quietly  to  sleep,  only  hand  me  here  your  ring.  It 
is  too  costly  and  precious  to  trust  it  in  bed  while 
you  sleep." 

The  queen,  imagining  it  was  her  royal  consort, 
instantly  gave  him  the  ring,  and  in  a  moment  the 
conjurer  was  off  with  it  on  his  finger.  Directly 
afterwards  the  king  came  back. 

"At  last,"  he  said,  "I  have  indeed  carried  the 
joke  too  far.  I  have  repaid  him.  He  is  lying  there 
as  dead  as  a  door  nail.  He  will  plague  us  no 
more." 

"  I  know  that  already,"  replied  the  queen.  "  You 
have  told  me  exactly  the  same  thing  twice  over." 

"How  came  you  to  know  anything  about  if?" 
inquired  his  majesty. 

"  How  ?  From  yourself  to  be  sure,"  replied  his 
consort.  "  You  informed  me  that  the  conjurer  was 
dead,  and  then  you  asked  me  for  my  ring." 

"  I  ask  for  the  ring  !  "  exclaimed  the  king.  "  Then 
I  suppose  you  must  have  given  it  to  him,"  con- 
tinued his  majesty,  in  a  tone  of  great  indignation  ; 


THE    ARCH    ROGUE.  81 

**  and  is  it  even  so  at  last  1  By  all  the  saints,  this 
is  one  of  the  most  confounded,  unmanageable  knaves 
in  existence.     I  never  knew  anything  to  equal  it." 

Then  he  informed  the  queen  of  the  whole  affair, 
though  before  he  arrived  at  the  conclusion  of  his 
tale  she  was  fast  asleep. 

Soon  after  it  was  light  in  the  morning  the  wily 
conjurer  made  his  appearance.  He  bowed  to  the 
earth  three  times  before  the  queen  and  presented 
her  with  the  treasure  he  had  stolen.  The  king, 
though  excessively  chagrined,  could  not  forbear 
laughing  at  the  sight. 

"  Now  hear,"  said  he,  "  thou  king  of  arch  rogues. 
Had  I  only  caught  a  sight  of  you  through  my 
fingers  as  you  were  coming,  you  would  never  have 
come  off  so  well.  As  it  is,  let  what  is  past  be  for- 
given and  forgotten.  Take  up  your  residence  at 
my  court,  and  take  care  that  you  do  not  carry  your 
jokes  too  far,  for  in  such  a  case  I  may  find  myself 
compelled  to  withdraw  my  favour  from  you  if 
nothing  worse  ensue." 


/  9^i^'^ 


BROTHEK  MERRY. 

In  days  of  yore  there  was  a  war,  and  when  it  was 
at  an  end  a  great  number  of  the  soldiers  that  had 
been  engaged  in  it  were  disbanded.  Among  the 
rest  Brother  Merry  received  his  discharge,  and 
nothing  more  for  all  he  had  done  than  a  very  little 
loaf  of  soldier's  bread,  and  four  halfpence  in  money. 
With  these  possessions  he  went  his  way.  Now  a 
saint  had  seated  himself  in  the  road,  like  a  poor 
beggar  man,  and  when  Brother  Merry  came  along, 
he  asked  him  for  charity  to  give  him  something. 
Then  the  soldier  said — 

"  Dear  beggar  man,  what  shall  such  as  I  give 
you  1  I  have  been  a  soldier,  and  have  just  got  my 
discharge,  and  with  it  only  a  very  little  loaf 
and  four  halfpence.  When  that  is  gone  I  shall 
have  to  beg  like  yourself" 

However,  he  divided  the  loaf  into  four  parts,  and 
gave  the  saint  one,  with  a  halfpenny.  The  saint 
thanked  him,  and  having  gone  a  little  further  along 
the  road  seated  himself  like  another  beggar  in  the 
way  of  the  soldier.     When  Brother  Merry  came  up 

82 


BROTHER   MERRY.  83 

the  saint  again  asked  alms  of  him,  and  the  old 
soldier  again  gave  him  another  quarter  of  the  loaf 
and  another  halfpenny. 

The  saint  thanked  him,  and  seated  himself  in  the 
way  a  third  time,  like  another  beggar,  and  again  ad- 
dressed Brother  Merry.  Brother  Merry  gave  him 
a  third  quarter  of  the  loaf,  and  the  third  halfpenny. 

The  saint  thanked  him,  and  Brother  Merry  jour- 
neyed on  with  all  he  had  left — one  quarter  of  the 
loaf  and  a  single  halfpenny.  When  he  came  to  a 
tavern,  being  hungry  and  thirsty,  he  went  in  and 
ate  the  bread,  and  spent  the  halfpenny  in  beer  to 
drink  with  it.  When  he  had  finished,  he  continued 
his  journey,  and  the  saint,  in  the  disguise  of  a  dis- 
banded soldier,  met  him  again  and  saluted  him. 

"  Good  day,  comrad.e,"  said  he ;  "  can  you  give  me 
a  morsel  of  bread,  and  a  halfpenny  to  get  a  drop 
of  drink  1  " 

"  Where  shall  I  get  it  1 "  answered  Brother 
Merry.  "  I  got  my  discharge,  and  nothing  with  it 
but  a  loaf  and  four  halfpence,  and  three  beggars 
met  me  on  the  road  and  I  gave  each  of  them  a 
quarter  of  the  loaf  and  a  halfpenny.  The  last 
quarter  I  have  just  eaten  at  the  tavern,  and  I  have 
spent  the  last  halfpenny  in  drink.  I  am  quite 
empty  now.  If  you  have  nothing,  let  us  go  begging 
together." 

"  No,  that  will  not  be  necessary  just  now,"  said 
the  saint.     "  I  understand  a  little  about  doctoring, 


84         GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

and  I  will  in  time  obtain  as  much  as  I  need  by 
that." 

"  Ha  !  "  said  Brother  Merry,  "  I  know  nothing 
about  that,  so  I  must  go  and  beg  by  myself/' 

"  Only  come  along,"  replied  the  saint,  "  and  if  I 
can  earn  anything,  you  shall  go  halves." 

"  That  will  suit  me  excellently,"  replied  Brother 
Merry. 

So  they  travelled  on  together. 

They  had  not  gone  a  great  distance  before  they 
came  to  a  cottage  in  which  they  heard  a  great 
lamenting  and  screaming.  They  went  in  to  see 
what  was  the  matter,  and  found  a  man  sick  to  the 
death,  as  if  about  to  expire,  and  his  wife  crying 
and  weeping  loudly. 

"Leave  off  whining  and  crying,"  said  the  saint. 
"  I  will  make  the  man  well  again  quickly  enough," 
and  he  took  a  salve  out  of  his  pocket  and  cured  the 
man  instantly,  so  that  he  could  stand  up  and  was 
quite  hearty.  Then  the  man  and  his  wife,  in  great 
joy,  demanded — 

*'  How  can  we  repay  you  ]  What  shall  we  give 
you  1  " 

The  saint  would  not,  however,  take  anything, 
and  the  more  the  couple  pressed  him  the  more 
firmly  he  declined.  Brother  Merry,  who  had  been 
looking  on,  came  to  his  side,  and,  nudging  him,  said — 

"  Take  something  ;  take  something.  We  want  it 
badly  enough." 


BROTHER  MERRY.  85 

At  length  the  peasant  brought  a  lamb,  which 
he  desired  the  saint  to  accept,  but  he  declined 
it  still.  Then  Brother  Merry  jogged  his  side,  and 
said — 

"  Take  it,  you  foolish  fellow ;  take  it.  We  want 
it  badly  enough." 

At  last  the  saint  said — 

"  Well,  I  '11  take  the  lamb,  but  I  shall  not  carry 
it.     You  must  carry  it." 

"  There  's  no  great  hardship  in  that,"  cried  Brother 
Merry.  "  I  can  easily  do  it ; "  and  he  took  it  on 
his  shoulder. 

After  that  they  went  on  till  they  came  to  a 
wood,  and  Brother  Merry,  who  was  very  hungry, 
and  found  the  lamb  a  heavy  load,  called  out  to 
the  saint — 

"  Hallo !  here  is  a  nice  place  for  us  to  dress  and 
eat  the  lamb." 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  replied  his  companion ; 
"  but  I  don't  understand  anything  of  cooking,  so  do 
you  begin,  and  I  will  walk  about  until  it  is  ready. 
Don't  begin  to  eat  until  I  return.  I  will  take  care 
to  be  back  in  time." 

"  Go  your  ways,"  said  Brother  Merry ;  "  I  can 
cook  it  well  enough.     I  '11  soon  have  it  ready." 

The  saint  wandered  away,  while  Brother  Merry 
lighted  the  fire,  killed  the  lamb,  put  the  pieces 
into  the  pot,  and  boiled  them.  In  a  short  time  the 
lamb  was  thoroughly  done,  but  the  saint  had  not 


86         GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

returned  ;  so  Merry  took  the  meat  up,  carved  it, 
and  found  the  heart. 

"  That  is  the  best  part  of  it,"  said  he ;  and  he 
kept  tasting  it  until  he  had  finished  it. 

At  length  the  saint  came  back,  and  said — 

"  I  only  want  the  heart.  All  the  rest  you  may 
have,  only  give  me  that." 

Then  Brother  Merry  took  his  knife  and  fork,  and 
turned  the  lamb  about  as  if  he  would  have  found 
the  heart,  but  of  course  he  could  not  discover  it. 
At  last  he  said,  in  a  careless  manner — 

"  It  is  not  here." 

"  Not  there  1  AVhere  should  it  be,  then  1 "  said 
the  saint. 

"That  I  don't  know,"  said  Merry;  "but  now  I 
think  of  it,  what  a  couple  of  fools  we  are  to  look 
for  the  heart  of  a  lamb.  A  lamb,  you  know,  has 
not  got  a  heart." 

"  What  ?  "  said  the  saint ;  "  that 's  news,  indeed. 
Why,  every  beast  has  a  heart,  and  why  should  not 
the  lamb  have  one  as  well  as  the  rest  of  them  1 " 

"No,  certainly,  comrade,  a  lamb  has  no  heart. 
Only  reflect,  and  it  will  occur  to  you  that  it  really 
has  not." 

"  Well,"  replied  his  companion,  "  it  is  quite  suf- 
ficient. There  is  no  heart  there,  so  I  need  none  of 
the  lamb.     You  may  eat  it  all." 

"  Well,  what  I  cannot  eat  I  '11  put  in  my  knap- 
sack," said  Brother  Merry. 


BROTHER   MERRY.  87 

Then  he  ate  some,  and  disposed  of  the  rest  as  he 
had  said.  Now,  as  they  continued  their  journey, 
the  saint  contrived  that  a  great  stream  should  flow 
right  across  their  path,  so  that  they  must  be 
obliged  to  ford  it.     Then  said  he — 

"  Go  you  first." 

"  No,"  answered  Brother  Merry  ;  "  go  you  first," 
thinking  that  if  the  water  were  too  deep  he  would 
stay  on  the  bank  where  he  was.  However,  the 
saint  waded  through,  and  the  water  only  reached 
to  his  knees ;  but  when  Brother  Merry  ven- 
tured, the  stream  seemed  suddenly  to  increase 
in  depth,  and  he  was  soon  up  to  his  neck  in  the 
water. 

*'  Help  me,  comrade,"  he  cried. 

"  Will  you  confess,"  said  the  saint,  "  that  you  ate 
the  lamb's  heart  1  " 

The  soldier  still  denied  it,  and  the  water  got  still 
deeper,  until  it  reached  his  mouth.  Then  the  saint 
said  again — 

"  Will  you  confess,  then,  that  you  ate  the  lamb's 
heart  1 " 

Brother  Merry  still  denied  what  he  had  done, 
and  as  the  saint  did  not  wish  to  let  him  drown  he 
helped  him  out  of  his  danger. 

They  journeyed  on  until  they  came  to  a  kingdom 
where  they  heard  that  the  king's  daughter  lay 
dangerously  ill. 

"  Holloa !   brother/'  said  the  soldier,   "  here  's  a 


00  GERMAN   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

catch  for  us.  If  we  can  only  cure  her  we  shall  be 
made  for  ever." 

The  saint,  however,  was  not  quick  enough  for 
Brother  Merry. 

"  Come,  Brother  Heart/'  said  the  soldier,  "  put 
your  best  foot  forward,  so  that  we  may  come  in  at 
the  right  time." 

But  the  saint  went  still  slower,  though  his  com- 
panion kept  pushing  and  driving  him,  till  at  last 
they  heard  that  the  princess  was  dead. 

"  This  comes  of  your  creeping  so,"  said  the 
soldier. 

"  Now  be  still,"  said  the  saint,  "  for  I  can  do 
more  than  make  the  sick  whole  ;  I  can  bring  the 
dead  to  life  again." 

"  If  that 's  true,"  said  Brother  Merry,  "  you  must 
at  least  earn  half  the  kingdom  for  us." 

At  length  they  arrived  at  the  king's  palace, 
where  everybody  was  in  great  trouble,  but  the  saint 
told  the  king  he  would  restore  his  daughter  to  him. 
They  conducted  him  to  where  she  lay,  and  he  com- 
manded them  to  let  him  have  a  caldron  of  water, 
and  when  it  had  been  brought,  he  ordered  all  the 
people  to  go  away,  and  let  nobody  remain  with  him 
but  Brother  Merry.  Then  he  divided  the  limbs  of 
the  dead  princess,  and  throwing  them  into  the  water, 
lighted  a  fire  under  the  caldron,  and  boiled  them. 
When  all  the  flesh  had  fallen  from  the  bones,  the 
saint  took  them,  laid  them  on  a  table,  and  placed 


BROTHER   MERRY.  89 

them  together  in  their  natural  order.  Having  done 
this,  he  \yalked  before  them,  and  said — 

"  Arise,  thou  dead  one  !  " 

As  he  repeated  these  words  the  third  time  the 
princess  arose,  alive,  well,  and  beautiful. 

The  king  was  greatly  rejoiced,  and  said  to  the 
saint — 

"  Require  for  thy  reward  what  thou  wilt. 
Though  it  should  be  half  my  empire,  I  will  give 
it  you." 

But  the  saint  replied — 

"  I  desire  nothing  for  what  I  have  done." 

"  0  thou  Jack  Fool !  "  thought  Brother  Merry 
to  himself.  Then,  nudging  his  comrade's  side,  he 
said — 

*'  Don't  be  so  silly.  If  you  won't  have  anything, 
yet  I  need  somewhat." 

The  saint,  however,  would  take  nothing,  but  as 
the  king  saw  that  his  companion  would  gladly  have 
a  gift,  he  commanded  the  keeper  of  his  treasures  to 
fill  his  knapsack  with  gold,  at  which  Brother  Merry 
was  right  pleased. 

Again  they  went  upon  their  way  till  they  came 
to  a  wood,  when  the  saint  said  to  his  fellow- 
traveller — 

"  Now  we  will  share  the  gold.'' 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  soldier,  "  that  we  can." 

Then  the  saint  took  the  gold  and  divided  it  into 
three  portions. 


90         GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

"  Well/'  thought  Brother  Merry,  "  what  whim 
has  he  got  in  his  head  now,  making  three  parcels, 
and  only  two  of  us  ?  " 

"  Now,"  said  the  saint,  "  I  have  divided  it  fairly, 
one  for  me,  and  one  for  you,  and  one  for  him  who 
ate  the  heart." 

"  Oh,  I  ate  that,"  said  the  soldier,  quickly  taking 
up  the  gold.     "  I  did,  I  assure  you." 

"  How  can  that  be  true  1 "  replied  the  saint.  "  A 
lamb  has  no  heart." 

"  Ay  !  what,  brother  1  What  are  you  thinking 
of?  A  lamb  has  no  heart"?  Very  good!  When 
every  beast  has  why  should  that  one  be  with- 
out V 

"  Now  that  is  very  good,"  said  the  saint.  "  Take 
all  the  gold  yourself,  for  I  shall  remain  no  more 
with  you,  but  will  go  my  own  way  alone." 

"As  you  please.  Brother  Heart,"  answered  the 
soldier.     "  A  pleasant  journey  to  you,  my  hearty." 

The  saint  took  another  road,  and  as  he  went 
off— 

"  Well,"  thought  the  soldier,  "  it 's  all  right  that 
he  has  marched  off,  for  he  is  an  odd  fellow." 

Brother  Merry  had  now  plenty  of  money,  but  he 
did  not  know  how  to  use  it,  so  he  spent  it  and  gave 
it  away,  till  in  the  course  of  a  little  time  he  found 
himself  once  more  penniless.  At  last  he  came  into 
a  country  where  he  heard  that  the  king's  daughter 
was  dead, 


BROTHER    MERRY.  91 

"  Ah  !  "  thought  he,  "  that  may  turn  out  well. 
I  '11  bring  her  to  life  again." 

Then  he  went  to  the  king  and  offered  his  services. 
Now  the  king  had  heard  that  there  was  an  old 
soldier  who  went  about  restoring  the  dead  to  life, 
and  he  thought  that  Brother  Merry  must  be  just 
the  man.  However,  he  had  not  much  confidence 
in  him,  so  he  first  consulted  his  council,  and  they 
agreed  that  as  the  princess  was  certainly  dead,  the 
old  soldier  might  be  allowed  to  see  what  he  could 
do.  Brother  Merry  commanded  them  to  bring  him 
a  caldron  of  water,  and  when  every  one  had  left 
the  room  he  separated  the  limbs,  threw  them  into 
the  caldron,  and  made  a  fire  under  it,  exactly  as 
he  had  seen  the  saint  do.  When  the  water  boiled 
and  the  flesh  fell  from  the  bones,  he  took  them  and 
placed  them  upon  the  table,  but  as  he  did  not  know 
how  to  arrange  them  he  piled  them  one  upon  an- 
other.    Then  he  stood  before  them,  and  said — 

"  Thou  dead,  arise  !  "  and  he  cried  so  three  times, 
but  all  to  no  purpose. 

''  Stand  up,  you  vixen  !  stand  up,  or  it  shall  be 
the  worse  for  you,"  he  cried. 

Scarcely  had  he  repeated  these  words  ere  the 
saint  came  in  at  the  window,  in  the  likeness  of  an 
old  soldier,  just  as  before,  and  said — 

"  You  impious  fellow  !  How  can  the  dead  stand 
up  when  you  have  thrown  the  bones  thus  one  upon 
another?" 


92  GERMAN   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

"  Ah  !  Brother  Heart,"  answered  Merry,  "  I  have 
done  it  as  well  as  I  can." 

"  I  will  help  you  out  of  your  trouble  this  time," 
said  the  saint;  "but  I  tell  you  this,  if  you  ever 
again  undertake  a  job  of  this  kind,  you  will  repent 
it,  and  for  this  you  shall  neither  ask  for  nor  take 
the  least  thing  from  the  king." 

Having  placed  the  bones  in  their  proper  order, 
the  saint  said  three  times — 

"  Thou  dead,  arise  ! "  and  the  princess  stood  up, 
sound  and  beautiful  as  before.  Then  the  saint 
immediately  disappeared  again  out  of  the  window, 
and  Brother  Merry  was  glad  that  all  had  turned  out 
so  well.  One  thing,  however,  grieved  him  sorely,  and 
that  was  that  he  might  take  nothing  from  the  king. 

"I  should  like  to  know,"  thought  he,  *'what 
Brother  Heart  had  to  grumble  about.  What  he 
gives  with  one  hand  he  takes  with  the  other.  There 
is  no  wit  in  that." 

The  king  asked  Brother  Merry  what  he  would 
have,  but  the  soldier  durst  not  take  anything. 
However,  he  managed  by  hints  and  cunning  that  the 
king  should  fill  his  knapsack  with  money,  and  with 
that  he  journeyed  on.  When  he  came  out  of  the 
palace  door,  however,  he  found  the  saint  standing 
there,  who  said — 

"  See  what  a  man  you  are.  Have  I  not  forbidden 
you  to  take  anything,  and  yet  you  have  your  knap- 
sack filled  with  gold  1 " 


BROTH KR   MERRY.  93 

"  How  can  I  help  it,"  answered  the  soldier,  '•  if 
they  would  thrust  it  in  1, " 

"  I  tell  you  this,"  said  the  saint,  "  mind  that  you 
don't  undertake  such  a  business  a  second  time.  If 
you  do,  it  will  fare  badly  with  you." 

"  Ah  !  brother,"  answered  the  soldier,  "  never  fear. 
Now  I  have  moi  ey,  why  should  I  trouble  myself 
with  washing  boi  les  1 " 

"That  will  no  .last  a  long  time,"  said  the  saint; 
"  but,  in  order  that  you  may  never  tread  in  a  for- 
bidden path,  I  will  bestow  upon  your  knapsack  this 
power,  that  whatsoever  you  wish  in  it  shall  be  there. 
Farewell !  you  will  never  see  me  again." 

"Adieu,"  said  Brother  Merry,  and  thought  he, 
"I  am  glad  you  are  gone.  You  are  a  wonderful 
fellow.     I  am  willing  enough  not  to  follow  you." 

He  forgot  all  about  the  wonderful  property 
bestowed  upon  his  knapsack,  and  very  soon  he  had 
spent  and  squandered  his  gold  as  before.  When  he 
had  but  fourpence  left,  he  came  to  a  public-house, 
and  thought  that  the  money  must  go.  So  he  called 
for  three  pennyworth  of  wine  and  a  pennyworth  of 
bread.  As  he  ate  and  drank,  the  flavour  of  roasting 
geese  tickled  his  nose,  and,  peeping  and  prying 
about,  he  saw  that  the  landlord  had  placed  two  geese 
in  the  oven.  Then  it  occurred  to  him  what  his 
companion  had  told  him  about  his  knapsack,  so  he 
determined  to  put  it  to  the  test.  Going  out,  he 
stood  before  the  door,  and  said — 


94         GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

"  I  wish  that  the  two  geese  which  are  baking  in 
the  oven  were  in  my  knapsack." 

When  he  had  said  this,  he  peeped  in,  and,  sure 
enough,  there  they  were. 

"  Ah  !  ah  !  "  said  he,  "  that  is  all  right.  I  am  a 
made  man." 

He  went  on  a  little  way,  took  out  the  geese,  and 
commenced  to  eat  them.  As  he  was  thus  enjoying 
himself,  there  came  by  two  labouring  men,  who 
looked  with  hungry  eyes  at  the  one  goose  which  was 
yet  untouched.  Brother  Merry  noticed  it,  and 
thought  that  one  goose  would  be  enough  for  him. 
So  he  called  the  men,  gave  them  the  goose,  and  bade 
them  drink  his  health.  The  men  thanked  him,  and 
going  to  the  public-house,  called  for  wine  and  bread, 
took  out  their  present,  and  commenced  to  eat. 
When  the  hostess  saw  what  they  were  dining  on, 
she  said  to  her  goodman — 

"Those  two  men  are  eating  a  goose.  You  had 
better  see  if  it  is  not  one  of  ours  out  of  the  oven." 

The  host  opened  the  door,  and  lo  !  the  oven  was 
empty. 

"  0  you  pack  of  thieves  !  "  he  shouted.  "  This 
IS  the  way  you  eat  geese,  is  it  ?  Pay  for  them 
directly,  or  I  will  wash  you  both  with  green  hazel 
juice." 

The  men  said — 

"  We  are  not  thieves.  We  met  an  old  soldier  on 
the  road,  and  he  made  us  a  j)resent  of  the  goose." 


BROTHER   MERRY.  95 

"  You  are  not  going  to  hoax  me  in  that  way," 
said  the  host.  "  The  soldier  has  been  here,  but 
went  out  of  the  door  like  an  honest  fellow.  I 
took  care  of  that.  You  are  the  thieves,  and  you 
shall  pay  for  the  geese." 

However,  as  the  men  had  no  money  to  pay 
him  with,  he  took  a  stick  and  beat  them  out  of 
doors. 

Meanwhile,  as  Brother  Merry  journeyed  on,  he 
came  to  a  place  where  there  was  a  noble  castle,  and 
not  far  from  it  a  little  public-house.  Into  this  he 
went,  and  asked  for  a  night's  lodging,  but  the  land- 
lord said  that  his  house  was  full  of  guests,  and  he 
could  not  accommodate  him. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  Brother  Merry,  "  that  the  people 
should  all  come  to  you,  instead  of  going  to  that 
castle." 

"  They  have  good  reason  for  what  they  do,"  said 
the  landlord,  "  for  whoever  has  attempted  to  spend 
the  night  at  the  castle  has  never  come  back  to  show 
how  he  was  entertained." 

"  If  others  have  attempted  it,  why  shouldn't  I  ?  " 
said  Merry. 

"You  had  better  leave  it  alone,"  said  the  host; 
"you  are  only  thrusting  your  head  into  danger." 

"No  fear  of  danger,"  said  the  soldier,  "  only  give 
me  the  key  and  plenty  to  eat  and  drink." 

The  hostess  gave  him  what  he  asked  for,  and  he 
went  off  to  the  castle,  relished  his  supper,  and  when 


96  GEKMAN  FOLKLOKE  TALES. 

he  found  himself  sleepy,  laid  himself  down  on  the 
floor,  for  there  was  no  bed  in  the  place.  He  soon 
went  to  sleep,  but  in  the  night  he  was  awoke  by  a 
great  noise,  and  when  he  aroused  himself  he  dis- 
covered nine  very  ugly  devils  dancing  in  a  circle 
which  they  had  made  around  him. 

"  Dance  as  long  as  you  like,"  said  Brother  Merry ; 
"  but  don't  come  near  me." 

But  the  devils  came  drawing  nearer  and  nearer, 
and  at  last  they  almost  trod  on  his  face  with  their 
misshapen  feet. 

"  Be  quiet,"  said  he,  but  they  behaved  still  worse. 

At  last  he  got  angry,  and  crying — 

"  Holla !  I  '11  soon  make  you  quiet,"  he  caught 
hold  of  the  leg  of  a  stool  and  struck  about 
him. 

Nine  devils  against  one  soldier  were,  however, 
too  much,  and  while  he  laid  about  lustily  on  those 
before  him,  those  behind  pulled  his  hair  and  pinched 
him  miserably. 

"Ay,  ay,  you  pack  of  devils,  now  you  are  too 
hard  for  me,"  said  he ;  "  but  wait  a  bit.  I  ^\^ish  all 
the  nine  devils  were  in  my  knapsack,"  cried  he,  and 
it  was  no  sooner  said  than  done. 

There  they  were.  Then  Brother  Merry  buckled 
it  up  close,  and  threw  it  into  a  corner,  and  as  all 
was  now  still  he  lay  down  and  slept  till  morning, 
when  the  landlord  of  the  inn  and  the  nobleman  to 
whom  the  castle  belonsjed  came  to  see  how  it  had 


BROTHER  MERRY.  97 

fared  with  him.     When  they  saw  him  sound  and 
lively,  they  were  astonished,  and  said — 

"  Did  the  ghosts,  then,  do  nothing  to  you  1 " 

"  Why,  not  exactly,"  said  Merry ;  "  but  I  have 
got  them  all  nine  in  my  knapsack.  You  may  dwell 
quietly  enough  in  your  castle  now ;  from  henceforth 
they  won't  trouble  you." 

The  nobleman  thanked  him  and  gave  him  great 
rewards,  begging  him  to  remain  in  his  service,  say- 
ing that  he  would  take  care  of  him  all  the  days  of 
his  life. 

" No,"  answered  he  ;  "I  am  used  to  wander  and 
rove  about.     I  will  again  set  forth." 

He  went  on  until  he  came  to  a  smithy,  into 
which  he  went,  and  laying  his  knapsack  on  the 
anvil,  bade  the  smith  and  all  his  men  hammer  away 
upon  it  as  hard  as  they  could.  They  did  as  they 
were  directed,  with  their  largest  hammers  and  all 
their  might,  and  the  poor  devils  set  up  a  piteous 
howling.  When  the  men  opened  the  knapsack 
there  were  eight  of  them  dead,  but  one  who  had 
been  snug  in  a  fold  was  still  alive,  and  he  slipped 
out  and  ran  away  to  his  home  in  a  twinkling. 

After  this  Brother  Merry  wandered  about  the  world 
for  a  long  time ;  but  at  last  he  grew  old,  and  began 
to  think  about  his  latter  end,  so  he  went  to  a  hermit 
who  was  held  to  be  a  very  pious  man  and  said — 

"  I  am  tired  of  roving,  and  will  now  endeavour  to 
go  to  heaven," 

G 


98         GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

" There  stand  two  ways,"  said  the  hermit ;  "the 
one,  broad  and  pleasant,  leads  to  hell ;  the  other 
is  rough  and  narrow,  and  that  leads  to  heaven." 

"  I  must  be  a  fool  indeed,"  thought  Brother  Merry, 
"  if  I  go  the  rough  and  narrow  road  ; "  so  he  went  the 
broad  and  pleasant  way  till  he  came  at  last  to  a 
great  black  door,  and  that  was  the  door  of  hell. 

He  knocked,  and  the  door-keeper  opened  it,  and 
when  he  saw  that  it  was  Merry  he  was  sadly 
frightened,  for  who  should  he  be  but  the  ninth  devil 
who  had  been  in  the  knapsack,  and  he  had  thought 
himself  lucky,  for  he  had  escaped  with  nothing  worse 
chan  a  black  eye.  He  bolted  the  door  again  directly, 
and  running  to  the  chief  of  the  devils,  said — 

"  There  is  a  fellow  outside  with  a  knapsack  on 
his  back,  but  pray  don't  let  him  in,  for  he  can  get 
all  hell  into  his  knapsack  by  wishing  it.  He  once 
got  me  a  terribl}^  ^^g^y  hammering  in  it." 

So  they  called  out  to  Brother  Merry,  and  told 
him  that  he  must  go  away,  for  they  should  not  let 
him  in. 

"  Well,  if  they  will  not  have  me  here,"  thought 
Merry,  "  I  '11  e'en  tr}^  if  I  can  get  a  lodging  in  heaven. 
Somewhere  or  other  I  must  rest." 

So  he  turned  about  and  went  on  till  he  came  to 
the  door  of  heaven,  and  there  he  knocked.  Now 
the  saint  who  had  journeyed  with  Merry  sat  at  the 
door,  and  had  charge  of  the  entrance.  Brother  Merry 
recognised  him,  and  said — 


BROTHER  MERRY.  99 

"  Are  you  here,  old  acquaintance  1  Then  things 
will  go  better  with  me." 

The  saint  replied — 

"  I  suppose  you  want  to  get  into  heaven  1 " 

"  Ay,  ay,  brother,  let  me  in ;  I  must  put  up 
somewhere." 

"  No,"  said  the  saint ;  "  you  don't  come  in  here." 

"Well,  if  you  won't  let  me  in,  take  your  dirty 
knapsack  again.  I  '11  have  nothing  that  can  put  rne 
in  mind  of  you,"  said  Merry  carelessly. 

"  Give  it  me,  then,"  said  the  saint. 

Brother  Merry  handed  it  through  the  grating 
into  heaven,  and  the  saint  took  it  and  hung  it  up 
behind  his  chair. 

"  Now,"  said  Brother  Merry,  "  I  wish  I  was  in 
my  own  knapsack." 

Instantly  he  was  there ;  and  thus,  being  once 
actually  in  heaven,  the  saint  was  obliged  to  let  him 
stay  there. 


FASTEADA. 

By  the  side  of  the  "Beautiful  Doorway,"  leading 
into  the  cloisters  of  the  cathedral  at  Mainz,  stands, 
worked  into  the  wall,  a  fragment  of  the  tomb  of 
Fastrada,  the  fourth  wife  of  the  mighty  monarch 
Charlemagne  according  to  some  authorities,  the 
third  according  to  others.  Fastrada  figures  in  the 
following  tradition  related  by  the  author  of  the 
Ehyming  Chronicle. 

AVhen  the  Kaiser,  Karl,  abode  at  Zurich,  he 
dwelt  in  a  house  called  "  The  Hole,"  in  front  of 
which  he  caused  a  pillar  to  be  erected  with  a  bell 
on  the  top  of  it,  to  the  end  that  whoever  demanded 
justice  should  have  the  means  of  announcing  him- 
self. One  day,  as  he  sat  at  dinner  in  his  house,  he 
heard  the  bell  ring,  and  sent  out  his  servants  to 
bring  the  claimant  before  him ;  but  they  could  find 
no  one.  A  second  and  a  third  time  the  bell  rang, 
but  no  human  being  was  still  to  be  seen.  At  length 
the  Kaiser  himself  went  forth,  and  he  found  a  large 
serpent,  which  had  twined  itself  round  the  shaft  of 
the  pillar,  and  was  then  in  the  very  act  of  pulling 
the  bell  rope. 

100 


FASTRADA.  101 

"This  is  God's  will,"  said  the  monarch.  "Let 
the  brute  be  brought  before  me.  I  may  deny  justice 
to  none  of  God's  creatures — man  or  beast." 

The  serpent  was  accordingly  ushered  into  the 
imperial  presence ;  and  the  Kaiser  spoke  to  it  as  he 
would  to  one  of  his  own  kind,  gravely  asking  what 
it  required.  The  reptile  made  a  most  courteous 
reverence  to  Charlemagne,  and  signed  in  its  dumb 
way  for  him  to  follow.  He  did  so  accordingly, 
accompanied  by  his  court;  and  the  creature  led 
them  on  to  the  water's  edge,  to  the  shores  of  the 
lake,  where  it  had  its  nest.  Arrived  there,  the 
Kaiser  soon  saw  the  cause  of  the  serpent's  seeking 
him,  for  its  nest,  which  was  full  of  eggs,  was  occu- 
pied by  a  hideous  toad  of  monstrous  proportions. 

"Let  the  toad  be  flung  into  the  fire,"  said  the 
monarch  solemnly,  "  and  let  the  serpent  have 
possession  of  its  nest  restored  to  it." 

This  sentence  was  carried  at  once  into  execution. 
The  toad  was  burnt,  and  the  serpent  placed  in  pos- 
session. Charlemagne  and  his  court  then  returned 
to  the  palace. 

Three  days  afterwards,  as  the  Kaiser  again  sat  at 
dinner,  he  was  surprised  at  the  appearance  of  the 
serpent,  which  this  time  glided  into  the  hall  un- 
noticed and  unannounced. 

"  What  does  this  mean  ]  "  thought  the  king. 

The  reptile  approached  the  table,  and  raising 
itself  on  its  tail,  dropped  from  its  mouth,  into  an 


102        GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

empty  plate  which  stood  beside  the  monarch,  a  pre- 
cious diamond.  Then,  again  abasing  itself  before 
him,  the  crawling  creature  glided  out  of  the  hall  as 
it  had  entered,  and  was  speedily  lost  to  view.  This 
diamond  the  monarch  caused  to  be  set  in  a  costly 
chased  ring  of  the  richest  gold ;  and  he  then  pre- 
sented the  trinket  to  his  fair  wife,  the  much-be- 
loved Fastrada. 

Now  this  stone  had  the  virtue  of  attraction,  and 
whoso  received  it  from  another,  so  long  as  they 
wore  it,  received  also  the  intensest  love  of  that  in- 
dividual. It  was  thus  with  Fastrada,  for  no  sooner 
did  she  place  the  ring  on  her  finger  than  the  at- 
tachment of  Charlemagne,  great  before,  no  longer 
knew  any  bounds.  In  fact  his  love  was  more  like 
madness  than  any  sane  passion.  But  though  this 
talisman  had  full  power  over  love,  it  had  no  power 
over  death;  and  the  mighty  monarch  was  soon  to 
experience  that  nothing  may  avert  the  fiat  of  destiny. 

Charlemagne  and  his  beloved  bride  returned  to 
Germany,  and,  at  Ingelheim  palace,  Fastrada  died. 
The  Kaiser  wns  inconsolable.  He  would  not  listen 
to  the  voice  of  friendship,  and  he  sorrowed  in  silence 
over  the  dead  body  of  his  once  beautiful  bride. 
Even  when  decay  had  commenced,  when  the  re- 
mains, late  so  lovely,  were  now  loathsome  to  look 
on,  he  could  not  be  induced  to  leave  the  corpse  for 
a  moment,  or  to  quit  the  chamber  of  death  in  which 
it  lay.     The  court  were  all  astounded.     They  knew 


FASTRADA.  103 

not  what  to  make  of  the  matter.  At  length  Turpin, 
Archbishop  of  Rheims,  approached  the  corpse,  and 
being  made  aware  of  the  cause,  by  some  super- 
natural communication  contrived  to  ensjas-e  the 
emperor's  attention  while  he  removed  the  charm. 
The  magic  ring  was  found  by  him  in  the  mouth  of 
the  dead  empress,  concealed  beneath  her  tongue. 

Immediately  that  the  talisman  was  removed  the 
spell  was  broken,  and  Charlemagne  now  looked  on 
the  putrid  corpse  with  all  the  natural  horror  and 
loathing  of  an  ordinary  man.  He  gave  orders  for 
its  immediate  interment,  which  were  at  once  carried 
into  execution,  and  he  then  departed  from  Ingel- 
lieim  for  the  forest  of  the  Ardennes.  Arrived  at 
Aix-la-Chapelle,  he  took  up  his  abode  in  the  ancient 
castle  of  Frankenstein,  close  by  that  famous  city. 
The  esteem,  however,  that  he  had  felt  for  Fastrada 
was  now  transferred  to  the  possessor  of  the  ring. 
Archbishop  Turpin ;  and  the  pious  ecclesiastic  was 
so  persecuted  by  the  emperor's  affection  that  he 
finally  cast  the  talisman  into  the  lake  which  sur- 
rounds the  castle. 

An  immediate  transference  of  the  royal  liking 
took  place,  and  the  monarch,  thenceforth  and  for 
ever  after  during  his  lifetime,  loved  Aix-la-Chapelle 
as  a  man  might  love  his  wife.  So  much  did  he 
become  attached  to  it,  that  he  directed  that  he 
should  be  buried  there ;  and  there  accordingly  his 
remains  rest  unto  this  day. 


THE  JEW  IN  THE  BUSH. 

A  FAITHFUL  servant  had  worked  hard  for  his 
master,  a  thrifty  farmer,  for  three  long  years,  and 
had  been  paid  no  wages.  At  last  it  came  into  the 
man's  head  that  he  would  not  go  on  thus  any 
longer,  so  he  went  to  his  master  and  said — 

"  I  have  worked  hard  for  you  a  long  time,  and 
without  pay,  too.  I  will  trust  you  to  give  me  what 
I  ought  to  have  for  my  trouble,  but  something  I 
must  have,  and  then  I  must  take  a  holiday." 

The  farmer  was  a  sad  miser,  and  knew  that  his 
man  was  simple-hearted,  so  he  took  out  three 
crowns,  and  thus  gave  him  a  crown  for  each  year's 
service.  The  poor  fellow  thought  it  was  a  great 
deal  of  money  to  have,  and  said  to  himself — 

"Why  should  I  work  hard  and  live  here  on 
bad  fare  any  longer  1  Now  that  I  am  rich  I 
can  travel  into  the  wide  world  and  make  myself 
merry." 

With  that  he  put  the  money  into  his  purse,  and 
set  out,  roaming  over  hill  and  valley.  As  he  jogged 
along  over  the  fields,  singing  and  dancing,  a  little 

104 


THE   JEW   IN    THE   BUSH.  105 

dwarf  met  him,  and  asked  him  what  made  him  so 
merry. 

"  Why,  what  should  make  me  down-hearted  1  " 
replied  he.  "  I  am  sound  in  health  and  rich  in 
purse ;  what  should  I  care  for  I  I  have  saved  up 
my  three  years'  earnings,  and  have  it  all  safe  in 
my  pocket." 

"  How  much  may  it  come  tof  said  the  mannikin. 

"  Three  whole  crowns,"  replied  the  countryman. 

"  I  wish  you  would  give  them  to  me,"  said  the 
other.     "  I  am  very  poor." 

Then  the  good  man  pitied  him,  and  gave  him  all 
he  had ;  and  the  dwarf  said — 

"  As  you  have  such  a  kind  heart,  I  will  grant  you 
three  wishes — one  for  each  crown, — so  choose  what- 
ever you  like." 

The  countryman  rejoiced  at  his  luck,  and  said — 

"  I  like  many  things  better  than  money.  First, 
I  will  have  a  bow  that  will  bring  me  down  every- 
thing I  shoot  at ;  secondly,  a  fiddle  that  will  set 
every  one  dancing  that  hears  me  play  upon  it ;  and, 
thirdly,  I  should  like  to  be  able  to  make  every  one 
grant  me  whatever  I  ask." 

The  dwarf  said  he  should  have  his  three  wishes, 
gave  him  the  bow  and  the  fiddle,  and  went  his  way. 

Our  honest  friend  journeyed  on  his  way  too, 
and  if  he  was  merry  before,  he  was  now  ten  times 
more  so.  He  had  not  gone  far  before  he  met  an 
old  Jew.     Close  by  them  stood  a  tree,  and  on  the 


106        GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

topmost  twig  sat  a  thrush,  singing  away  most 
joyfully. 

"  Oh  what  a  pretty  bird  ! "  said  the  Jew.  "  I 
would  give  a  great  deal  of  my  money  to  have  such 
a  one." 

"  If  that 's  all/'  said  the  countryman,  "  I  will 
soon  bring  it  down." 

He  took  up  his  bow,  off  went  his  arrow,  and 
down  fell  the  thrush  into  a  bush  that  grew  at  the 
foot  of  the  tree.  The  Jew,  when  he  saw  that  he 
could  have  the  bird,  thought  he  would  cheat  the 
man,  so  he  put  his  money  into  his  pocket  again, 
and  crept  into  the  bush  to  find  the  prize.  As  soon 
as  he  had  got  into  the  middle,  his  companion  took 
up  his  fiddle  and  played  away,  and  the  Jew  began 
to  dance  and  spring  about,  capering  higher  and 
higher  in  the  air.  The  thorns  soon  began  to  tear 
his  clothes,  till  they  all  hung  in  rags  about  him, 
and  he  himself  was  all  scratched  and  wounded,  so 
that  the  blood  ran  down. 

"Oh,  for  heaven's  sake  !  "  cried  the  Jew.  "  Mercy, 
mercy,  master  !  Pray  stop  the  fiddle  !  AVhat  have 
I  done  to  be  treated  in  this  way  1 " 

"  What  hast  thou  done  ?  Why,  thou  hast  shaved 
many  a  poor  soul  close  enough,"  said  the  other. 
"  Thou  art  only  meeting  thy  reward ; "  and  he 
played  up  another  tune  yet  merrier  than  the  first. 

Then  the  Jew  began  to  beg  and  pray,  and  at  last 
he  said  he  would  give  plenty  of  his  money  to  be  set 


THE  JEW   IN  THE   BUSH.  107 

free.  He  did  not,  however,  come  up  to  the  musician's 
price  for  some  time,  so  he  danced  him  along  brisker 
and  brisker.  The  higher  the  Jew  danced,  the 
higher  he  bid,  till  at  last  he  offered  a  round  hundred 
crowns  that  he  had  in  his  purse,  and  had  just 
gained  by  cheating  some  poor  fellow.  When  the 
countryman  saw  so  much  money,  he  said — 

"  I  agree  to  the  bargain,"  and,  taking  the  purse  and 
putting  up  his  fiddle,  he  travelled  on  well  pleased. 

Meanwhile  the  Jew  crept  out  of  the  bush,  half 
naked,  and  in  a  piteous  plight,  and  began  to  ponder 
how  he  should  take  his  revenge  and  serve  his  late 
companion  some  trick.  At  length  he  went  to  a 
judge,  and  said  that  a  rascal  had  robbed  him  of  his 
money,  and  beaten  him  soundly  into  the  bargain, 
and  that  this  fellow  carried  a  bow  at  his  back,  and 
had  a  fiddle  hanging  round  his  neck.  The  judge  sent 
out  his  bailiffs  to  bring  up  the  man  whenever  they 
should  find  him.  The  countryman  was  soon  caught, 
and  brought  up  to  be  tried. 

The  Jew  began  his  tale,  and  said  he  had  been 
robbed  of  his  money. 

"  Kobbed,  indeed  !  "  said  the  countryman  ;  "why, 
you  gave  it  me  for  playing  you  a  tune,  and  teaching 
you  to  dance." 

The  judge  said  that  was  not  likely;  that  the 
Jew,  he  was  sure,  knew  better  what  to  do  with  his 
money ;  and  he  cut  the  matter  short  by  sending 
the  countryman  off  to  the  gallows. 


108        GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

Away  he  was  taken,  but  as  he  stood  at  the  foot 
of  the  ladder,  he  said — 

"  My  Lord  Judge,  may  it  please  your  worship  to 
grant  me  but  one  boon  *? " 

"  Anything  but  thy  life,"  replied  the  other. 

" No,"  said  he ;  "I  do  not  ask  my  life.  Only  let 
me  play  upon  my  fiddle  for  the  last  time." 

The  Jew  cried  out — 

"  Oh,  no  !  no  !  no !  for  heaven's  sake  don't  listen 
to  him  !  don't  listen  to  him  ! " 

But  the  judge  said — 

*'  It  is  only  for  this  once,  poor  fellow  !  He  will 
soon  have  done." 

The  fact  was  he  could  not  say  no,  because  the 
dwarfs  third  gift  enabled  the  countryman  to  make 
every  one  grant  whatever  he  asked. 

Then  the  Jew  said — 

"  Bind  me  fast,  bind  me  fast,  for  pity's  sake !  " 

The  countryman  seized  his  fiddle  and  struck  up 
a  merry  tune,  and  at  the  first  note  judge,  clerks,  and 
jailer  were  set  agoing.  All  began  capering,  and  no 
one  could  hold  the  Jew.  At  the  second  note  the 
hangman  let  his  prisoner  go  and  danced  also,  and 
by  the  time  the  first  bar  of  the  tune  was  played  all 
were  dancing  together — ^judge,  court,  Jew,  and  all 
the  people  who  had  followed  to  look  on.  At  first 
the  thing  went  merrily  and  joyously  enough,  but 
when  it  had  gone  on  a  while,  and  there  seemed  to 
be  no  end  of  either  playing  or  dancing,  all  began  to 


THE   JEW   IN    THE    BUSH.  109 

cry  out  and  beg  the  countryman  to  leave  off.  He 
stopped,  however,  not  a  whit  the  more  for  their 
begging,  till  the  judge  not  only  gave  him  his  life, 
but  paid  him  back  the  hundred  crowns. 

Then  the  countryman  called  the  Jew,  and  said — 

"  Tell  us  now,  you  rogue,  where  you  got  that  gold, 
or  I  shall  play  on  for  your  amusement  only." 

"  I  stole  it,"  replied  the  Jew,  before  all  the  people. 
"  I  acknowledge  that  I  stole  it,  and  that  you  earned 
it  fairly." 

Then  the  countryman  stopped  his  fiddling,  and  left 
the  Jew  to  take  his  place  at  the  gallows. 


THE  ELVES. 

The  happy  day  at  length  arrived  on  which  Count 
Hermann  von  Rosenberg  was  married  to  his  beloved 
Catherine,  a  princess  of  the  house  of  Gonzaca.  The 
event  was  celebrated  by  a  magnificent  banquet  and 
festival,  and  it  was  late  before  the  Count  and  Countess 
could  leave  their  guests.  The  young  Countess  was 
already  asleep,  and  Hermann  was  sinking  into  a 
slumber,  when  he  was  aroused  by  hearing  the  sounds 
of  soft  and  gentle  music,  and,  the  door  of  his  apart- 
ment flying  open,  a  joyous  bridal  procession  entered 
the  room.  The  figures  engaged  in  this  extraordinary 
scene  were  not  more  than  two  or  three  spans  high. 
The  bride  and  bridegroom  were  in  the  centre  of  the 
procession,  and  the  musicians  preceded  it. 

Hermann  rose  up  in  bed,  and  demanded  what 
brought  them  there,  and  why  they  had  aroused  him, 
whereupon  one  of  the  company  stepped  up  to  him, 
and  said — 

"  We  are  attendant  spirits  of  that  peaceful  class 
who  dwell  in  the  earth.  We  have  dwelt  for  many 
years  beneath  this  thy  birthplace,  and  have  ever 
uo 


THE  ELVES.  Ill 

watched  over  thy  dwelling  to  preserve  it  from  mis- 
fortune. Already  have  we  taken  good  care  of  the 
ashes  of  your  forefathers  that  they  should  not  fall 
into  the  power  of  hostile  and  evil  spirits,  and  as 
faithful  servants  we  watch  over  the  welfare  of  your 
house.  Since  thou  hast  this  day  been  married  for 
the  continuance  of  thy  name  and  ancient  race,  we 
have  represented  to  you  this  bridal  ceremony,  in 
hopes  that  you  will  grant  us  full  permission  to  keep 
and  celebrate  this  joyous  festival,  in  return  for  which 
we  promise  to  serve  you  and  your  house  with  the 
greatest  readiness." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Hermann,  laughing ;  "  make 
yourselves  as  merry  in  my  castle  as  you  please." 

They  thanked  him,  and  took  their  departure. 
Hermann  could  not,  however,  banish  from  his  mind 
this  remarkable  scene,  and  it  was  daybreak  before 
he  fell  asleep.  In  the  morning  his  thoughts  were 
still  occupied  with  it,  yet  he  never  mentioned  one 
word  of  the  occurrence  to  his  wife. 

In  the  course  of  time  the  Countess  presented  him 
with  a  daughter.  Scarcely  had  Hermann  received 
intelligence  of  this  event  before  a  very  diminutive  old 
crone  entered  the  apartment  and  informed  him  that 
the  elfin  bride,  whom  he  had  seen  in  the  miniature 
procession  on  the  night  of  his  nuptials,  had  given 
birth  to  a  daughter.  Hermann  was  very  friendly 
to  the  visitor,  wished  all  happiness  to  the  mother 
and  child,  and  the  old  woman  took  her  departure. 


112        GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

The  Count  did  not,  however,  mention  this  visit  to 
his  wife. 

A  year  afterwards,  on  the  approach  of  her  second 
confinement,  the  Countess  saw  the  elves  on  the 
occasion  of  her  husband  receiving  another  of  their 
unexpected  visits.  The  little  people  entered  the 
chamber  in  a  long  procession  in  black  dresses, 
carrying  lights  in  their  hands,  and  the  little  women 
were  clothed  in  white.  One  of  these  stood  before 
the  Count  holding  up  her  apron,  while  an  old  man 
thus  addressed  her — 

"  No  more,  dear  Hermann,  can  we  find  a  resting- 
place  in  your  castle.  We  must  wander  abroad. 
We  are  come  to  take  our  departure  from  you." 

"  Wherefore  will  you  leave  my  castle  ? "  inquired 
Hermann.     "  Have  I  offended  you  ? " 

"  No,  thou  hast  not ;  but  we  must  go,  for  she 
whom  you  saw  as  a  bride  on  your  wedding-night 
lost,  last  evening,  her  life  in  giving  birth  to  an  heir, 
who  likewise  perished.  As  a  proof  that  we  are 
thankful  for  the  kindness  you  have  always  shown 
us,  take  a  trifling  proof  of  our  power." 

When  the  old  man  had  thus  spoken,  he  placed  a 
little  ladder  against  the  bed,  which  the  old  woman 
who  had  stood  by  ascended.  Then  she  opened  her 
apron,  held  it  before  Hermann,  and  said — 

"  Grasp  and  take. " 

He  hesitated.  She  repeated  what  she  had  said. 
At  last  he  did  what  she  told  him,  took  out  of  her 


THE   ELVES.  113 

apron  what  he  supposed  to  be  a  handful  of  sand, 
and  laid  it  in  a  basin  which  stood  upon  a  table  by 
his  bedside.  The  little  woman  desired  him  to  take 
another  handful,  and  he  did  once  more  as  she  bade 
him.  Thereupon  the  woman  descended  the  ladder ; 
and  the  procession,  weeping  and  lamenting,  departed 
from  the  chamber. 

When  day  broke,  Hermann  saw  that  the  supposed 
sand  which  he  had  taken  from  the  apron  of  the 
little  woman  was  nothing  less  than  pure  and 
beautiful  grains  of  gold. 

But  what  happened  1  On  that  very  day  he  lost 
his  Countess  in  childbirth,  and  his  new-born  son. 
Hermann  mourned  her  loss  so  bitterly  that  he  was 
very  soon  laid  beside  her  in  the  grave.  With  him 
perished  the  house  of  Eosenberg. 


THE  CONCLAVE  OF  COEPSES. 

Some  three  hundred  years  since,  when  the  convent 
of  Kreutzberg  was  in  its  glory,  one  of  the  monks 
who  dwelt  therein,  wishing  to  ascertain  something 
of  the  hereafter  of  those  whose  bodies  lay  all  un- 
decayed  in  the  cemetery,  visited  it  alone  in  the 
dead  of  night  for  the  purpose  of  prosecuting  his 
inquiries  on  that  fearful  subject.  As  he  opened  the 
trap-door  of  the  vault  a  light  burst  from  below ; 
but  deeming  it  to  be  only  the  lamp  of  the  sacristan, 
the  monk  drew  back  and  awaited  his  departure 
concealed  behind  the  high  altar.  The  sacristan 
emerged  not,  however,  from  the  opening;  and  the 
monk,  tired  of  waiting,  approached,  and  finally  de- 
scended the  rugged  steps  which  led  into  the  dreary 
depths.  No  sooner  had  he  set  foot  on  the  lower- 
most stair,  than  the  well-known  scene  underwent  a 
complete  transformation  in  his  eyes.  He  had  long 
been  accustomed  to  visit  the  vault,  and  whenever 
the  sacristan  went  thither,  he  was  almost  sure  to  be 
with  him.  He  therefore  knew  every  part  of  it  as 
well  as  he  did  the  interior  of  his  own  narrow  cell, 
111 


THE    CONCLAVE   OF   CORPSES.  115 

and  the  arrangement  of  its  contents  was  perfectly 
familiar  to  his  eyes.  What,  then,  was  his  horror  to 
perceive  that  this  arrangement,  which  even  but  that 
morning  had  come  under  his  observation  as  usual, 
was  altogether  altered,  and  a  new  and  wonderful 
one  substituted  in  its  stead. 

A  dim  lurid  light  pervaded  the  desolate  abode  of 
darkness,  and  it  just  sufficed  to  give  to  his  view  a 
sight  of  the  most  singular  description. 

On  each  side  of  him  the  dead  but  imperishable 
bodies  of  the  long-buried  brothers  of  the  convent 
sat  erect  in  their  lidless  coffins,  their  cold,  starry 
eyes  glaring  at  him  with  lifeless  rigidity,  their 
withered  fingers  locked  together  on  their  breasts, 
their  stiffened  limbs  motionless  and  still.  It  was  a 
sight  to  petrify  the  stoutest  heart ;  and  the  monk's 
quailed  before  it,  though  he  was  a  philosopher,  and 
a  sceptic  to  boot.  At  the  upper  end  of  the  vault, 
at  a  rude  table  formed  of  a  decayed  coffin,  or  some- 
thing which  once  served  the  same  purpose,  sat 
three  monks.  They  were  the  oldest  corses  in  the 
charnel-house,  for  the  inquisitive  brother  knew  their 
faces  well :  and  the  cadaverous  hue  of  their  cheeks 
seemed  still  more  cadaverous  in  the  dim  light  shed 
upon  them,  while  their  hollow  eyes  gave  forth  what 
looked  to  him  like  flashes  of  flame.  A  large  book 
lay  open  before  one  of  them,  and  the  others  bent 
over  the  rotten  table  as  if  in  intense  pain,  or  in 
deep  and  fixed  attention.     No  word  was  said;  no 


116        GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

sound  was  heard;  the  vault  was  as  silent  as  the 
grave,  its  awful  tenants  still  as  statues. 

Fain  would  the  curious  monk  have  receded  from  this 
horrible  place;  fain  would  he  have  retraced  his  steps 
and  sought  again  his  cell ;  fain  would  he  have  shut 
his  eyes  to  the  fearful  scene ;  but  he  could  not  stir 
from  the  spot,  he  felt  rooted  there ;  and  though  he 
once  succeeded  in  turning  his  eyes  to  the  entrance 
of  the  vault,  to  his  infinite  surprise  and  dismay  he 
could  not  discover  where  it  lay,  nor  perceive  any 
possible  means  of  exit.  He  stood  thus  for  some  time. 
At  length  the  aged  monk  at  the  table  beckoned  him 
to  advance.  With  slow  tottering  steps  he  made  his 
way  to  the  group,  and  at  length  stood  in  front  of 
the  table,  while  the  other  monks  raised  their  heads 
and  glanced  at  him  with  a  fixed,  lifeless  look  that 
froze  the  current  of  his  blood.  He  knew  not  what 
to  do  ;  his  senses  were  fast  forsaking  him ;  Heaven 
seemed  to  have  deserted  him  for  his  incredulity. 
In  this  moment  of  doubt  and  fear  he  bethought 
him  of  a  prayer,  and  as  he  proceeded  he  felt  himself 
becoming  possessed  of  a  confidence  he  had  before 
unknown.  He  looked  on  the  book  before  him.  It 
was  a  large  volume,  bound  in  black,  and  clasped 
-wdth  bands  of  gold,  with  fastenings  of  the  same 
metal.     It  was  inscribed  at  the  top  of  each  page 

"  Liher  ObecUentice." 

He  could  read  no  further.  He  then  looked,  first 
in  the  eyes  of  him  before  whom  it  lay  open,  and 


THE   CONCLAVE    OF   CORPSES.  117 

then  in  those  of  his  fellows.  He  finally  glanced 
around  the  vault  on  the  corpses  who  filled  every 
visible  coffin  in  its  dark  and  spacious  womb.  Speech 
came  to  him,  and  resolution  to  use  it.  He  addressed 
himself  to  the  awful  beings  in  whose  presence  he 
stood,  in  the  words  of  one  having  authority  with 
them. 

" Fax  vobis,"  'twas  thus  he  spake — "Peace  be  to 

ye." 

" Hie  nulla  pax"  replied  an  aged  monk,  in  a  hol- 
low, tremulous  tone,  baring  his  breast  the  while — 
"  Here  is  no  peace." 

He  pointed  to  his  bosom  as  he  spoke,  and  the 
monk,  casting  his  eye  upon  it,  beheld  his  heart 
within  surrounded  by  living  fire,  which  seemed  to 
feed  on  it  but  not  consume  it.  He  turned  away  in 
affright,  but  ceased  not  to  prosecute  his  inquiries. 

"  Pax  vobis,  in  nomine  Domini,"  he  spake  again — 
"  Peace  be  to  ye,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord." 

'^ Hie  non  pax"  the  hollow  and  heartrending 
tones  of  the  ancient  monk  who  sat  at  the  right  of 
the  table  were  heard  to  answer. 

On  glancing  at  the  bared  bosom  of  this  hapless 
being  also  the  same  sight  was  exhibited — the 
heart  surrounded  by  a  devouring  flame,  but  still 
remaining  fresh  and  unconsumed  under  its  opera- 
tion. Once  more  the  monk  turned  away  and  ad- 
dressed the  aged  man  in  the  centre. 

"  Pax  vobis,  in  nomine  Domini,"  he  proceeded. 


118        GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

At  these  words  the  being  to  whom  they  were 
addressed  raised  his  head,  put  forward  his  hand, 
and  closing  the  book  with  a  loud  clap,  said — 

"Speak  on.  It  is  yours  to  ask,  and  mine  to 
answer." 

The  monk  felt  reassured,  and  his  courage  rose 
with  the  occasion. 

"  Who  are  ye  ?"  he  inquired  ;  "  who  may  ye  be  ]" 

"  We  know  not ! "  was  the  answer,  "  alas  !  we 
know  not ! " 

"  We  know  not,  we  know  not ! "  echoed  in  melan- 
choly tones  the  denizens  of  the  vault. 

"  What  do  ye  here  1"  pursued  the  querist. 

"We  await  the  last  day,  the  day  of  the  last 
judgment !     Alas  for  us  !  woe  !  woe  ! " 

"Woe  !  woe  !"  resounded  on  all  sides. 

The  monk  was  appalled,  but  still  he  proceeded. 

"  What  did  ye  to  deserve  such  doom  as  this  1 
What  may  your  crime  be  that  deserves  such  dole 
and  sorrow  1 " 

As  he  asked  the  question  the  earth  shook 
under  him,  and  a  crowd  of  skeletons  uprose  from 
a  range  of  graves  which  yawned  suddenly  at  his 
feet. 

"  These  are  our  victims,"  answered  the  old  monk. 
"  They  suffered  at  our  hands.  We  suffer  now,  while 
they  are  at  peace  ;  and  we  shall  suffer." 

"For  how  long'?"  asked  the  monk. 

"  For  ever  and  ever !  "  was  the  answer. 


THE   CONCLAVE    OF   CORPSES.  119 

"  For  ever  and  ever,  for  ever  and  ever  ! "  died  along 
the  vault. 

"  May  God  have  mercy  on  us  1 "  was  all  the  monk 
could  exclaim. 

The  skeletons  vanished,  the  graves  closing  over 
them.  The  aged  men  disappeared  from  his  view, 
tha  bodies  fell  back  in  their  coffins,  the  light  fled, 
and  the  den  of  death  was  once  more  enveloped  in 
its  usual  darkness. 

On  the  monk's  revival  he  found  himself  lying  at 
the  foot  of  the  altar.  The  grey  dawn  of  a  spring 
morning  was  visible,  and  he  was  fain  to  retire  to  his 
cell  as  secretly  as  he  could,  for  fear  he  should  be 
discovered. 

From  thenceforth  he  eschewed  vain  philosophy, 
says  the  legend,  and,  devoting  his  time  to  the  pur- 
suit of  true  knowledge,  and  the  extension  of  the 
power,  greatness,  and  glory  of  the  Church,  died  in 
the  odour  of  sanctity,  and  was  buried  in  that  holy 
vault,  where  his  body  is  still  visible. 

Requiescat  in  imce  I 


LEGENDS  OF  RUBEZAHL,  OR 
NUMBER-NIP. 

Once  upon  a  time  a  glazier  who  was  travelling 
across  the  mountains,  feeling  very  tired  from  the 
heavy  load  of  glass  which  he  was  carrying,  began  to 
look  about  to  discover  a  place  where  he  might  rest 
it.  Rubezahl,  who  had  been  watching  for  some 
time,  no  sooner  saw  this  than  he  changed  himself 
into  a  little  mound,  which  the  glazier  not  long  after- 
wards discovered  in  his  way,  and  on  which,  well 
pleased,  he  proposed  to  seat  himself.  But  his  joy 
was  not  of  long  continuance,  for  he  had  not  sat 
there  many  minutes  before  the  heap  vanished  from 
under  him  so  rapidly,  that  the  poor  glazier  fell  to 
the  ground  with  his  glass,  which  was  by  the  fall 
smashed  into  a  thousand  pieces. 

The  poor  fellow  arose  from  the  ground  and 
looked  around  him,  but  the  mound  of  earth  on 
which  he  had  before  seated  himself  was  no  longer 
visible.  Then  he  began  bitterly  to  lament,  and  to 
sio-h  with  heartfelt  sorrow  over  his  untoward  fate. 
At  length   he  staited    once   more    on   his   journey. 

120 


LEGENDS  OF  RUBEZAHL,  OR  NUMBER-NIP.         121 

Upon  this  Eubezahl,  assuming  the  appearance  of  a 
traveller,  accosted  him,  and  inquired  why  he  so 
lamented,  and  what  was  the  great  sorrow  with  which 
he  was  afflicted.  The  glazier  related  to  him  the 
whole  affair,  how  that,  being  weary,  he  had  seated 
himself  upon  a  mound  by  the  wayside,  how  this  had 
suddenly  overthrown  him,  and  broken  to  pieces  his 
whole  stock  of  glass,  which  was  well  worth  eight 
dollars,  and  how,  in  short,  the  mound  itself  had 
suddenly  disappeared.  He  declared  that  he  knew 
not  in  the  least  how  to  recover  his  loss  and  bring 
the  business  to  a  good  ending.  The  compassionate 
mountain  sprite  comforted  him,  told  him  who  he 
was,  and  that  he  himself  had  played  him  the  trick, 
and  at  the  same  time  bade  him  be  of  good  cheer,  for 
his  losses  should  be  made  good  to  him. 

Upon  this  Eubezahl  transformed  himself  into  an 
ass,  and  directed  the  glazier  to  sell  him  at  the  mill 
which  lay  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  and  to  be 
sure  to  make  off  with  the  purchase-money  as  quickly 
as  possible.  The  glazier  accordingly  immediately 
bestrode  the  transformed  mountain  sprite,  and  rode 
him  down  the  mountain  to  the  mill,  where  he 
offered  him  for  sale  to  the  miller  at  the  price  of  ten 
dollars.  The  miller  offered  nine,  and  the  glazier, 
without  further  haggling,  took  the  money  and  went 
his  way. 

When  he  was  gone  the  miller  sent  his  newly 
purchased  beast  to  the  stable,  and  the  boy  who  had 


122        GERMAN  FOLKLOKE  TALES. 

charge  of  him  immediately  filled  his  rack  with  hay. 
Upon  this  Eubezahl  exclaimed — 

"I  don't  eat  hay.  1  eat  nothing  but  roasted  and 
boiled,  and  that  of  the  best." 

The  boy's  hair  stood  on  end.  He  flew  to  his 
master,  and  related  to  him  this  wondrous  tale,  and 
he  no  sooner  heard  it  than  he  hastened  to  the  stable 
and  there  found  nothing,  for  his  ass  and  his  nine 
dollars  were  alike  vanished. 

But  the  miller  was  rightly  served,  for  he  had 
cheated  in  his  time  many  poor  people,  therefore 
Eubezahl  punished  in  this  manner  the  injustice  of 
which  he  had  been  guilty. 

In  the  year  1512  a  man  of  noble  family,  who 
was  a  very  tyrant  and  oppressor,  had  commanded 
one  of  his  vassals  or  peasants  to  carry  home  with  his 
horses  and  cart  an  oak  of  extraordinary  magnitude, 
and  threatened  to  visit  him  with  the  heaviest  dis- 
grace and  punishment  if  he  neglected  to  fulfil  his 
desires.  The  peasant  saw  that  it  was  impossible 
for  him  to  execute  the  command  of  his  lord,  and 
fled  to  the  woods  with  great  sorrow  and  lamenta- 
tion. 

There  he  was  accosted  by  Eubezahl,  who  appeared 
to  him  like  a  man,  and  inquired  of  him  the  cause 
of  his  so  great  sorrow  and  affliction.  Upon  this  the 
peasant  related  to  him  all  the  circumstances  of  the 
case.     When  Eubezahl  heard  it  he  bade  him  be  of 


LEGENDS   OF   EUBEZAHL,    OR    NUMBER-NIP.         123 

good  cheer  and  care  not,  but  go  home  to  his  house 
again,  as  he  himself  would  soon  transport  the  oak, 
as  his  lord  required,  into  his  courtyard. 

Scarcely  had  the  peasant  got  well  home  again 
before  E-ubezahl  took  the  monstrous  oak-tree,  with 
its  thick  and  sturdy  boughs,  and  hurled  it  into  the 
courtyard  of  the  nobleman,  and  with  its  huge  stem, 
and  its  many  thick  branches,  so  choked  and  blocked 
up  the  entrance  that  no  one  could  get  either  in  or 
out.  And  because  the  oak  proved  harder  than  their 
iron  tools,  and  could  in  no  manner  or  wise,  and 
with  no  power  which  they  could  apply  to  it,  be 
hewn  or  cut  in  pieces,  the  nobleman  was  compelled 
to  break  through  the  walls  in  another  part  of  the 
courtyard,  and  have  a  new  doorway  made,  which 
was  only  done  with  great  labour  and  expense. 

Once  upon  a  time  Eubezahl  made,  from  what 
materials  is  not  known,  a  quantity  of  pigs,  which 
he  drove  to  the  neighbouring  market  and  sold  to 
a  peasant,  with  a  caution  that  the  purchaser  should 
not  drive  them  through  any  water. 

Now,  what  happened  1  Why  these  same  swine 
having  chanced  to  get  sadly  covered  with  mire,  what 
must  the  peasant  do,  but  drive  them  to  the  river, 
which  they  had  no  sooner  entered  than  the  pigs 
suddenly  became  wisps  of  straw,  and  were  carried 
away  by  the  stream.  The  purchaser  was,  moreover, 
obliged  to  put  up  with  the  loss,  for  he  could  neither 


124        GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

find  his  pigs  again,  nor  could  he  discover  the  person 
from  whom  he  had  bought  them. 

Rubezahl  once  betook  himself  to  the  Hirschberg, 
which  is  in  the  neighbourhood  of  his  forest  haunts, 
and  there  offered  his  services  as  a  woodcutter  to  one 
of  the  townsmen,  asking  for  his  remuneration  nothing 
more  than  a  bundle  of  wood.  This  the  man  pro- 
mised him,  accepting  his  offer,  and  pointed  out  some 
cart-loads,  intending  to  give  him  some  assistance.  To 
this  offer  of  help  in  his  labours  Eubezahl  replied — 

"  No.  It  is  quite  unnecessary.  All  that  is  to  be 
done  I  can  very  well  accomplish  by  myself." 

Upon  this  his  new  master  made  a  few  further 
inquiries,  asking  him  what  sort  of  a  hatchet  he  had 
got,  for  he  had  noticed  that  his  supposed  servant 
was  without  one. 

"  Oh,"  said  Eubezahl,  "  I  '11  soon  get  a  hatchet." 

Accordingly  he  laid  hands  upon  his  left  leg,  and 
pulled  that  and  his  foot  and  all  off  at  the  thigh,  and 
with  it  cut,  as  if  he  had  been  raving  mad,  all  the 
wood  into  small  pieces  of  proper  lengths  and  sizes 
in  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  thus  proving  that  a 
dismembered  foot  is  a  thousand  times  more  effectual 
for  such  purposes  than  the  sharpest  axe. 

In  the  meanwhile  the  owner  (who  saw  plainly 
that  mischief  was  intended)  kept  calling  upon  the 
wondrous  woodcutter  to  desist  and  go  about  his 
business.  Eubezahl,  however,  kept  incessantly 
answering — 


LEGENDS    OF   RUBEZAHL,    OR   NUMBER-NIP.        125 

"No,  I  won't  stir  from  this  spot  until  I  have 
hewn  the  wood  as  small  as  I  agreed  to,  and  have  got 
my  wages  for  so  doing." 

In  the  midst  of  such  quarrelling  Eubezahl  finished 
his  job,  and  screwed  his  leg  on  again,  for  while  at 
work  he  had  been  standing  on  one  leg,  after  the 
fashion  of  a  stork.  Then  he  gathered  together 
into  one  bundle  all  he  had  cut,  placed  it  on  his 
shoulder,  and  started  off  with  it  towards  his  favour- 
ite retreat,  heedless  of  the  tears  and  lamentations  of 
his  master. 

On  this  occasion  Eubezahl  did  not  appear  in  the 
character  of  a  sportive  or  mischievous  spirit,  but  as 
an  avenger  of  injustice,  for  his  employer  had  induced 
a  number  of  poor  men  to  bring  wood  to  his  home 
upon  the  promise  of  paying  them  wages,  which, 
however,  he  had  never  paid  them.  Eubezahl  laid 
at  the  door  of  each  of  these  poor  men  as  much  of 
the  wood  he  carried  away  as  would  repay  them,  and 
so  the  business  was  brought  to  a  proper  termination. 

It  once  happened  that  a  messenger  vexed  or 
played  some  trick  upon  Eubezahl,  who  thereupon 
revenged  himself  in  the  following  manner,  and  so 
wiped  out  the  score. 

The  messenger,  in  one  of  his  journeys  over  the 
mountains,  entered  an  hotel  to  refresh  himself,  and 
placed  his  spear  as  usual  behind  the  door.  No 
sooner  had  he  done  so  than  Eubezahl  carried  off  the 


126  GERMAN    FOLKLORE   TALES. 

spear,  transformed  himself  into  a  similar  one,  and 
took  its  place. 

When  the  messenger,  after  taking  his  rest,  set 
forth  again  with  the  spear,  and  had  got  some  little 
way  on  his  journey,  it  began  slipping  about  every 
now  and  then  in  such  a  manner  that  the  messenger 
began  pitching  forward  into  the  most  intolerable 
mire,  and  got  himself  sadly  bespattered.  It  did  this 
so  often  that  at  last  he  could  not  tell  for  the  soul  of 
him  what  had  come  to  the  spear,  or  why  he  kept 
slipping  forward  with  it  instead  of  seizing  fast  hold 
of  the  ground. 

He  looked  at  it  longways  and  sideways,  from 
above,  from  underneath,  but  in  spite  of  all  his 
attempts,  no  change  could  he  discover. 

After  this  insjDection  he  went  forward  a  little  way, 
when  suddenly  he  was  once  more  plunged  into  the 
morass,  and  commenced  crying — 

"  Woe  is  me!  woe  is  me  !"  at  his  spear,  which  led 
him  into  such  scrapes,  and  did  nothing  to  release 
him  from  them.  At  length  he  got  himself  once 
more  to  rights,  and  then  he  turned  the  spear  the 
wrong  way  upwards.  No  sooner  had  he  done  so 
than  he  was  driven  backwards  instead  of  forwards, 
and  so  got  into  a  worse  plight  than  ever. 

After  this  he  laid  the  spear  across  his  shoulder 
like  a  pikeman,  since  it  was  no  use  to  trail  it  upon 
the  earth,  and  in  this  fashion  he  started  on.  But 
Rubezahl  continued  his  tricks  by  pressing   on  the 


LEGENDS    OF   EUBEZAHL,    OK   XUMBER-NIP.  127 

messenger  as  though  he  had  got  a  yoke  on  his  back. 
He  changed  the  spear  from  one  shoulder  to  the 
other,  until  at  last,  from  very  weariness,  he  threw 
away  the  bewitched  weapon,  imagining  that  the 
Evil  One  must  possess  it,  and  went  his  way  with- 
out it. 

He  had  not  proceeded  above  a  quarter  of  a  mile, 
when,  looking  carelessly  about  him,  he  was  astounded 
to  find  his  spear  by  his  side.  He  was  sadly 
frightened,  and  little  knew  what  to  make  of  it.  At 
last  he  boldly  ventured  to  lay  hands  upon  it.  He 
did  so,  and  lifted  it  up,  but  he  could  not  conceive 
how  he  should  carry  it.  He  had  no  desire  to  trail 
it  any  more  on  the  ground,  and  the  thought  of 
carrying  it  on  his  shoulder  made  him  shudder.  He 
decided,  however,  to  give  it  another  trial,  carrying 
it  in  his  hand.  Fresh  troubles  now  arose.  The 
spear  weighed  so  heavy  that  he  could  not  stir  it  a 
foot  from  the  spot,  and  though  he  tried  first  one 
hand  and  then  another,  all  his  efi'orts  were  in  vain. 

At  last  he  bethought  him  of  riding  upon  the  spear, 
as  a  child  bestrides  a  stick.  A  wonderful  change 
now  came  over  the  weapon.  It  ran  on  as  though  it 
had  been  a  fleet  horse,  and  thus  mounted  the 
messenger  rode  on  without  ceasing  until  he 
descended  the  mountain  and  came  into  the  city, 
where  he  excited  the  wonder,  delight,  and  laughter 
of  the  worthy  burghers. 

Although   he   had   endured  some  trouble  in  the 


128        GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

early  part  of  his  journey,  the  messenger  thought  he 
had  been  amply  compensated  at  the  close,  and  he 
comforted  himself  by  making  up  his  mind  that  in  all 
future  journeys  he  was  destined  to  perform  he  would 
bestride  his  nimble  spear.  His  good  intentions 
were,  however,  frustrated.  Eubezahl  had  played  his 
game,  and  had  had  all  the  amusement  he  desired 
with  the  poor  knave.  Accordingly  he  scampered 
away,  leaving  in  his  place  the  real  spear,  which  never 
played  any  more  tricks,  but,  after  the  old  fashion  of 
other  spears,  accompanied  its  master  in  a  becoming 
and  orderly  style. 

A  poor  woman,  who  got  her  living  by  gathering 
herbs,  once  went,  accompanied  by  her  two  children, 
to  the  mountains,  carrying  with  her  a  basket  in 
which  to  gather  the  plants,  which  she  was  in  the 
habit  of  disposing  of  to  the  apothecaries.  Having 
chanced  to  discover  a  large  tract  of  land  covered 
with  such  plants  as  were  most  esteemed,  she  busied 
herself  so  in  filling  her  basket  that  she  lost  her 
way,  and  was  troubled  to  find  out  how  to  get  back 
to  the  path  from  which  she  had  wandered.  On  a 
sudden  a  man  dressed  like  a  peasant  appeared  before 
her,  and  said — 

"  Well,  good  woman,  what  is  it  you  are  looking 
for  so  anxiously  1  and  where  do  you  want  to  go  *? " 

"  Alas ! "  replied  she,  "  I  am  a  poor  woman  who 
has  neither   bit  nor  sup,  for  which   reason   I  am 


LEGENDS  OF  KUBEZAHL,  OR  NL'MBER-NIP.   129 

obliged  to  wander  to  gather  herbs,  so  that  I  may 
buy  bread  for  myself  and  my  hungry  children.  I 
have  lost  my  way,  and  cannot  find  it.  I  pray  you, 
good  man,  take  pity  on  me,  and  lead  me  out  of  the 
thicket  into  the  right  path,  so  that  I  may  make  the 
best  of  my  way  home." 

"Well,  my  good  woman,"  replied  Eubezahl,  for 
it  was  he,  "  make  yourself  happy.  I  will  show  you 
the  way.  But  what  good  are  those  roots  to  you  1 
They  will  be  of  little  benefit.  Throw  away  this 
rubbish,  and  gather  from  this  tree  as  many  leaves 
as  will  fill  your  basket ;  you  will  find  them  answer 
your  purpose  much  better." 

"  Alas !  "  said  the  woman,  "  who  would  give  a 
penny  for  them  ?  They  are  but  common  leaves,  and 
good  for  nothing." 

"Be  advised,  my  good  woman,"  said  Eubezahl; 
"  throw  away  those  you  have  got,  and  follow  me." 

He  repeated  his  injunction  over  and  over  again 
in  vain,  until  he  got  tired,  for  the  woman  would 
not  be  persuaded.  At  last,  he  fairly  laid  hold  of 
the  basket,  threw  the  herbs  out  by  main  force,  and 
supplied  their  place  with  leaves  from  the  surround' 
ing  bushes.  When  he  had  finished,  he  told  the 
woman  to  go  home,  and  led  her  into  the  right  path. 

The  woman,  with  her  children  and  her  basket, 

journeyed  on  some  distance ;  but  they  had  not  gone 

far  before  she  saw  some  valuable  herbs  growing  by 

the   wayside.      No   sooner   did   she   perceive   them 

I 


130  GERMAN   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

than  she  longed  to  gather  them,  for  she  hoped  that 
she  should  obtain  something  for  them,  while  the 
leaves  with  which  her  basket  was  crammed  were, 
she  thought,  good  for  nothing.  She  accordingly- 
emptied  her  basket,  throwing  away  the  rubbish,  as 
she  esteemed  it,  and  having  filled  it  once  more  with 
roots,  journeyed  on  to  her  dwelling  at  Kirschdorf. 

As  soon  as  she  arrived  at  her  home  she  cleansed 
the  roots  she  had  gathered  from  the  earth  which 
clung  around  them,  tied  them  neatly  together, 
and  emptied  everything  out  of  the  basket.  Upon 
doing  this,  something  glittering  caught  her  eye, 
and  she  commenced  to  make  a  careful  examination 
of  the  basket.  She  was  surprised  to  discover  several 
ducats  sticking  to  the  wickerwork,  and  these  were 
clearly  such  of  the  leaves  as  remained  of  those 
which  she  had  So  thoughtlessly  thrown  away  on 
the  mountains. 

She  rejoiced  at  having  preserved  what  she  had, 
but  she  was  again  sorely  vexed  that  she  had  not 
taken  care  of  all  that  the  mountain  spirit  had 
gathered  for  her.  She  hastened  back  to  the  spot 
where  she  had  emptied  the  basket,  in  hopes  of 
finding  some  of  the  leaves  there ;  but  her  search 
was  in  vain — they  had  all  vanished. 


THE  HUNTEE  HACKELNBEEG  AND 
THE  TUT-OSEL. 

The  Wild  Huntsman,  Hackelnberg,  traverses  the 
Hartz  mountains  and  the  Thuringian  forest,  but  he 
seems  mostly  to  prefer  the  Hakel,  from  which  place 
he  derives  his  name,  and  especially  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Dummburg.  Ofttimes  is  he  heard  at  night, 
in  rain  and  storm,  when  the  moonlight  is  breaking 
by  fits  and  starts  through  the  troubled  sky,  follow- 
ing with  his  hounds  the  shadows  of  the  wild  beasts 
he  slew  in  days  of  yore.  His  retinue  generally 
proceed  from  the  Dummburg,  straight  over  the 
Hakel  to  the  now  desolate  village  of  Ammendorf. 

He  has  only  been  seen  by  a  few  children,  who, 
having  been  born  on  a  Sunday,  had  the  power  of 
seeing  spirits.  Sometimes  he  met  them  as  a  lonely 
huntsman,  accompanied  by  one  solitary  hound. 
Sometimes  he  was  seen  in  a  carriage  drawn  by  four 
horses,  and  followed  by  six  dogs  of  the  chase.  But 
many  have  heard  the  low  bellowing  of  his  hounds, 
and  the  splashing  of  his  horse's  feet  in  the  swamps 
of  the  moor;    many  have  heard  his   cry  of  "Hu! 

131 


132        GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

hu ! "  and  seen  his  associate  and  forerunner — the 
Tut-Osel,  or  Tooting  Ursula. 

Once  upon  a  time  three  wanderers  seated  them- 
selves in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Dummburg. 
The  night  was  already  far  advanced.  The  moon 
gleamed  faintly  through  the  chasing  clouds.  All 
around  was  still.  Suddenly  they  heard  something 
rush  along  over  their  heads.  They  looked  up,  and 
an  immense  screech-owl  flew  before  them. 

"  Ha  ! "  cried  one  of  them,  "  there  is  the  Tut- 
Osel  !  Hackelnberg,  the  Wild  Huntsman,  is  not 
far  off"." 

"  Let  us  fly,"  exclaimed  the  second,  "  before  the 
spirits  overtake  us." 

"  We  cannot  fly,"  said  the  third  ;  "  but  you  have 
nothing  to  fear  if  you  do  not  irritate  him.  Lay 
yourselves  down  upon  your  faces  when  he  passes 
over  us.  But,  remember,  you  must  not  think  of 
addressing  Hackelnberg,  lest  he  treat  you  as  he 
treated  the  shepherd." 

The  wanderers  laid  themselves  under  the  bushes. 
Presently  they  heard  around  them  the  rushing  by, 
as  it  were,  of  a  whole  pack  of  hounds,  and  high  in 
the  air  above  them  they  heard  a  hollow  sound  like 
that  of  a  hunted  beast  of  the  forest,  and  ever  and 
anon  they  trembled  at  hearing  the  fearful-toned 
voice  of  the  Wild  Huntsman  uttering  his  well- 
known  "  Hu  !  hu  !  "  Two  of  the  wanderers  pressed 
close  to  the  earth,  but  the   third  could  not  resist 


HUNTER  HACKELNBERG  AND  THE  TUT-OSEL.   133 

his  inclination  to  have  a  peep  at  what  was  going 
on.  He  looked  up  slantingly  through  the  branches, 
and  saw  the  shadow  of  a  huntsman  pass  directly 
over  him. 

Suddenly  all  around  was  hushed.  The  wanderers 
rose  slowly  and  timidly,  and  looked  after  Hackeln- 
berg ;  but  he  had  vanished,  and  did  not  return. 

"  But  who  is  the  Tut-Osel  1 "  inquired  the  second 
wanderer,  after  a  long  pause. 

"  In  a  distant  nunnery  in  Thuringia,"  replied  the 
first,  "  there  once  lived  a  nun  named  Ursula,  who, 
even  during  her  lifetime,  tormented  all  the  sister- 
hood by  her  discordant  voice,  and  oftentimes  inter- 
rupted the  service  of  the  church,  for  which  reason 
they  called  her  Tut-Osel,  or  Tooting  Ursula.  If 
matters  were  bad  while  she  lived,  they  became  far 
worse  when  she  died.  At  eleven  o'clock  every 
night  she  now  thrust  her  head  through  a  hole  in 
the  convent  tower  and  tooted  most  miserably,  and 
every  morning  at  about  four  o'clock  she  joined  un- 
asked in  the  matin  song. 

"  For  a  few  days  the  sisterhood  endured  this 
with  a  beating  heart,  and  on  bended  knees ;  but  on 
the  fourth  morning,  when  she  joined  in  the  service, 
and  one  of  the  nuns  whispered  tremblingly  to  her 
neighbour — 

"  '  Ha  !  it  is  surely  our  Tut-Osel ! '  the  song 
ceased,  the  hair  of  the  nuns  stood  on  end,  and  they 
all  rushed  from  the  church,  exclaiming — 


134  GERMAN   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

*''Ha!  Tut-Osel!  Tut-Osel ! ' 

"Despite  the  penances  and  chastisements  with 
which  they  were  threatened,  not  one  of  the  nuns 
would  enter  the  church  again  until  the  Tut-Osel 
was  banished  from  the  walls  of  the  nunnery.  To 
effect  this,  one  of  the  most  celebrated  exorcists  of 
the  day,  a  Capuchin  friar,  from  a  cloister  on  the 
banks  of  the  Danube,  was  sent  for ;  and  he  suc- 
ceeded, by  prayer  and  fasting,  in  banishing  Ursel 
in  the  shape  of  a  screech-owl  to  the  far-distant 
Dummburg. 

"Here  she  met  Hackelnberg,  the  Wild  Hunts- 
man, and  found  in  his  wood-cry,  *  Hu  !  hu  ! '  as 
great  delight  as  he  did  in  her  ^  U  !  hu  ! '  So  they 
now  always  hunt  together ;  he  glad  to  have  a  spirit 
after  his  own  kind,  and  she  rejoiced  in  the  extreme 
to  be  no  longer  compelled  to  reside  within  the 
walls  of  a  cloister,  and  there  listen  to  the  echo  of 
her  own  song." 

"  So  much  for  the  Tut-Osel.  Now  tell  us 
how  it  fared  with  the  shepherd  who  spoke  to 
Hackelnberg." 

"Listen  to  the  marvellous  adventure,"  said  the 
third  wanderer.  "A  shepherd  once  hearing  the 
Wild  Huntsman  journeying  through  the  forest,  en- 
couraged the  spirit  hounds,  and  called  out — 

"  *  Good  sport  to  you,  Hackelnberg.' 

"  Hackelnberg  instantly  turned  round  and  roared 
out  to  him,  in  a  voice  like  thunder — 


HUNTER  HACKELNBERG  AND  THE  TUT-OSEL.       135 

" '  Since  you  have  helped  me  to  set  on  the  hounds, 
you  shall  have  part  of  the  spoil.' 

"The  trembling  shepherd  tried  to  hide  himself, 
but  Hackelnberg  hurled  the  half-consumed  haunch 
of  a  horse  into  the  shepherd's  cart  with  such 
violence  that  it  could  scarcely  be  removed." 


THE  ALRAUK 

It  is  a  well-known  tradition  near  Magdeburg,  that 
when  a  man  who  is  a  thief  by  inheritance, — that  is 
to  say,  whose  father  and  grandfather  and  great- 
grandfather before  him,  three  generations  of  his 
family,  have  been  thieves;  or  whose  mother  has 
committed  a  theft,  or  been  possessed  with  an 
intense  longing  to  steal  something  at  the  time 
immediately  preceding  his  birth;  it  is  the  tradi- 
tion that  if  such  a  man  should  be  hanged,  at  the 
foot  of  the  gallows  whereon  his  last  breath  was 
exhaled  will  spring  up  a  plant  of  hideous  form 
known  as  the  Alraun  or  Gallows  Mannikin.  It  is 
an  unsightly  object  to  look  at,  and  has  broad,  dark 
green  leaves,  with  a  single  yellow  flower.  The 
plant,  however,  has  great  power,  and  whosoever  is 
its  possessor  never  more  knows  what  it  is  to  want 
money. 

It  is  a  feat  full  of  the  greatest  danger  to  obtain 
it.  If  not  taken  up  from  the  root,  clean  out  of  the 
soil,  it  is  altogether  valueless,  and  he  who  makes  the 
experiment  wantonly  risks  his  life.     The  moment 


THE   ALRAUK.  137 

the  earth  is  struck  with  the  sj^ade,  the  bitterest 
cries  and  shrieks  burst  forth  from  it,  and  while  the 
roots  are  beinor  laid  bare  demons  are  heard  to  howl 
in  horrid  concert.  When  the  preparatory  work  is 
done,  and  when  the  hand  of  the  daring  man  is  laid 
on  the  stem  to  pluck  forth  his  prize,  then  is  it  as  it 
all  the  fiends  of  hell  were  let  loose  upon  him,  such 
shrieking,  such  howling,  such  clanging  of  chains, 
such  crashing  of  thunder,  and  such  flashing  of  forked 
lightning  assail  him  on  every  side.  If  his  heart 
fail  him  but  for  one  moment  his  life  is  forfeit. 
Many  a  bold  heart  engaged  in  this  trial  has  ceased 
to  beat  under  the  fatal  tree ;  many  a  brave  man's 
body  has  been  found  mangled  and  torn  to  pieces  on 
that  accursed  spot. 

There  is,  however,  happily,  only  one  day  in  the 
month,  the  first  Friday,  on  which  this  plant  appears, 
and  on  the  night  of  that  day  only  may  it  be  plucked 
from  its  hiding-place.  The  way  it  is  done  is  this. 
Whoso  seeks  to  win  it  fasts  all  day.  At  sundown 
he  sets  forth  on  his  fearful  adventure,  taking  with 
him  a  coal-black  hound,  which  has  not  a  single  fleck 
of  white  on  its  whole  body,  and  which  he  has  com- 
pelled likewise  to  fast  for  four-and- twenty  hours 
previously.  At  midnight  he  takes  his  stand  under 
the  gallows,  and  there  stuff's  his  ears  with  wool  or 
wax,  so  that  he  may  hear  nothing.  As  the  dread 
hour  arrives,  he  stoops  down  and  makes  three 
crosses  over  the  Alraun,  and  then   commences  to 


138        GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

dig  for  the  roots  in  a  perfect  circle  aroand  it. 
When  he  has  laid  it  entirely  bare,  so  that  it  only 
holds  to  the  ground  by  the  points  of  its  roots,  he 
calls  the  hound  to  him,  and  ties  the  plant  to  its  tail. 
He  then  shows  the  dog  some  meat,  which  he  flings 
to  a  short  distance  from  the  spot.  Ravenous  with 
hunger,  the  hound  springs  after  it,  dragging  the 
plant  up  by  the  root,  but  before  he  can  reach  the 
tempting  morsel  he  is  struck  dead  as  by  some 
invisible  hand. 

The  adventurer,  who  all  the  while  stood  by  the 
plant  to  aid  in  its  uprooting  should  the  strength  of 
the  animal  prove  insufficient,  then  rushes  forward, 
and,  detaching  it  from  the  body  of  the  dead  hound, 
grasps  it  firmly  in  both  hands.  He  then  wraps  it 
up  carefully  in  a  silken  cloth,  first,  however,  wash- 
ing it  well  in  red  wine,  and  then  bears  it  homeward. 
The  hound  is  buried  in  the  spot  whence  the  Alraun 
has  been  extracted. 

On  reaching  home  the  man  deposits  his  treasure 
in  a  strong  chest,  with  three  locks,  and  only  visits 
it  every  first  Friday  in  the  month,  or,  rather,  after 
the  new  moon.  On  these  occasions  he  again  washes 
it  with  red  wine,  and  enfolds  it  afresh  in  a  clean 
silken  cloth  of  white  and  red  colours. 

If  he  has  any  question  to  ask,  or  any  request  to 
make,  he  then  puts  the  one  or  proffers  the  other. 
If  he  wish  to  know  of  things  in  the  future,  the 
Alraun  will  tell  him  truly,  but  he  will  only  get  one 


THE  ALEAUN.  139 

answer  in  the  moon,  and  nothing  else  will  be  done 
for  him  by  the  plant.  If  he  desire  to  obtain  some 
substantial  favour,  he  has  it  performed  for  him  on 
making  his  request,  but  then  the  Alraun  will  answer 
no  inquiries  as  to  the  future  until  the  next  day  of 
visitation  shall  arrive. 

Whoso  has  this  wonder  of  the  world  in  his  pos- 
session can  never  take  harm  from  his  foes,  and 
never  sustain  any  loss.  If  he  be  poor,  he  at  once 
becomes  rich.  If  his  marriage  be  unblest  by  off- 
spring, he  at  once  has  children. 

If  a  piece  of  gold  be  laid  beside  the  Alraun  at 
night,  it  is  found  to  be  doubled  in  the  morning,  and 
so  on  for  any  sum  whatsoever,  but  never  has  it  been 
known  to  be  increased  more  than  two  pieces  for 
3ach  one. 

On  the  demise  of  the  owner  only  a  youngest  son 
can  inherit  the  Alraun.  To  inherit  it  effectually  he 
must  place  a  loaf  of  white  bread  and  a  piece  of 
money  in  the  coffin  of  his  father,  to  be  buried  along 
with  his  corpse.  If  he  fail  to  do  so,  then  is  the  pos- 
session, like  many  others  of  great  name  in  the 
world,  of  no  value  to  him.  Should,  however,  the 
youngest  son  fail  before  the  father,  then  the  Alraun 
rightfully  belongs  to  the  eldest,  but  he  must  also 
place  bread  and  money  in  the  coffin  of  his  brother, 
as  well  as  in  that  of  his  father,  to  inherit  it  to  any 
purpose. 


THE  GOOSE-GIRL. 

The  king  of  a  great  land  died,  and  left  his  queen 
to  take  care  of  their  only  child.  This  child  was  a 
daughter,  who  was  very  beautiful,  and  her  mother 
loved  her  dearly  and  ^vas  very  kind  to  her.  When 
she  grew  up,  she  was  betrothed  to  a  prince  who  lived 
a  great  way  off;  and  as  the  time  drew  near  for  her 
to  be  married,  she  got  ready  to  set  off  on  her  journey 
to  his  country.  The  queen,  her  mother,  packed  up 
a  great  many  costly  things — ^jewels,  gold  and  silver 
trinkets,  fine  dresses,  and,  in  short,  everything  that 
became  a  royal  bride.  She  gave  her  a  waiting-maid 
to  ride  with  her  and  give  her  into  the  bridegroom's 
hands,  and  each  had  a  horse  for  the  journey.  The 
princess'  horse  was  called  Falada,  and  could  speak. 

When  the  time  came  for  them  to  set  out,  the 
aged  mother  went  into  the  princess's  bedchamber, 
took  a  knife,  and  having  cut  her  finger  till  it  bled, 
let  three  drops  of  the  blood  fall  upon  a  handkerchief, 
and  gave  it  to  the  princess,  saying — 

"  Take  care  of  it,  dear  child,  for  it  is  a  charm 
that  may  be  of  use  to  you  on  the  road." 

140 


THE  GOOSE-GIRL.  141 

They  all  took  a  sorrowful  leave  of  the  princess, 
and  she  put  the  handkerchief  into  her  bosom,  got 
upon  her  horse,  and  set  off  on  her  journey  to  her 
bridegroom's  kingdom. 

One  day  as  they  were  riding  along  by  a  brook, 
the  princess  began  to  feel  very  thirsty,  and  said  to 
her  maid — 

"  Pray  get  down,  and  fetch  me  some  water  in  my 
golden  cup  out  of  yonder  brook,  for  I  want  to 
drink." 

"  Nay,"  said  the  maid,  "  if  you  are  thirsty,  get  off 
yourself  and  stoop  down  by  the  water  and  drink. 
I  shall  not  be  your  waiting-maid  any  longer." 

The  princess  got  down,  and  knelt  over  the  brook 
and  drank,  for  she  was  frightened,  and  dared  not 
bring  out  her  cup;  and  she  wept,  and  said — 

"  Alas  !  what  will  become  of  me  1  " 

The  three  drops  of  blood  answered  her,  and 
said — 

*' Alas,  alas  !  if  thy  mother  knew  it, 
Sadly,  sadly,  would  she  rue  it." 

The  princess  was  very  gentle  and  meek,  so  she 
said  nothing  to  her  maid's  ill-behaviour,  but  got 
upon  her  horse  again. 

They  all  rode  further  on  their  journey,  till  the 
day  grew  so  warm  and  the  sun  so  scorching  that 
the  bride  began  to  feel  very  thirsty  again;  and  at 
last,  when  they  came  to  a  river,  she  forgot  her 
maid's  rude  speech,  and  said — 


142  GERMAN   FOLKLOKE   TALES. 

"Pray  get  down,  and  fetch  me  some  water  to 
drink  in  my  cup." 

But  the  maid  answered  her,  and  even  spoke  more 
haughtily  than  before — 

"  Drink  if  you  will,  but  I  shall  not  be  your  wait- 
ing-maid." 

Then  the  princess  got  off  her  horse,  and  lay  down, 
and  held  her  head  over  the  running  stream,  and 
cried  and  said — 

"  What  will  become  of  me  1  " 

And  the  drops  of  blood  answered  her  again  as 
before.  As  the  princess  leaned  down  to  drink,  the 
handkerchief  on  which  was  the  blood  fell  from  her 
bosom  and  floated  away  on  the  water,  but  the 
princess  was  so  frightened  that  she  did  not  notice 
it.  Her  maid,  however,  saw  it,  and  was  very  glad, 
for  she  knew  the  charm,  and  she  saw  that  the  poor 
bride  would  be  in  her  power  now  that  she  had  lost 
the  drops  of  blood.  So  when  the  bride  had  done 
drinking,  and  would  have  got  upon  Falada  again, 
the  maid  said — 

"  I  will  ride  upon  Falada,  and  you  may  have  my 
horse  instead ;  "  so  the  princess  was  forced  to  give 
up  her  horse,  and  soon  afterwards  to  take  off  her 
royal  clothes  and  put  on  her  maid's  shabby  ones. 

At  last,  as  they  drew  near  the  end  of  their  journey, 
this  treacherous  servant  threatened  to  kill  her  mis- 
tress if  she  ever  told  any  one  what  had  happened  ; 
but  Falada  saw  it  all,  and  marked  it  well. 


THE   GOOSE-GIRL.  143 

Then  the  waiting-maid  got  upon  Falada,  while 
the  real  bride  rode  upon  the  other  horse,  and 
they  went  on  in  this  way  until  they  came  at  last  to 
the  royal  court.  There  was  great  joy  at  their 
coming,  and  the  prince  flew  to  meet  them,  and 
lifted  the  maid  from  her  horse,  thinking  she  was  the 
one  who  was  to  be  his  wife.  She  was  led  upstairs 
to  the  royal  chamber,  but  the  true  princess  was  told 
to  stay  in  the  court  below. 

Now  the  old  king  happened  just  then  to  have 
nothing  else  to  do,  so  he  was  amusing  himself  by 
sitting  at  his  window  looking  at  what  was  going  on, 
and  he  saw  her  in  the  courtyard.  As  she  looked 
very  pretty,  and  too  delicate  for  a  waiting-maid,  he 
went  up  into  the  royal  chamber  to  ask  the  bride  who 
it  was  she  had  brouglit  with  her  that  was  thus  left 
standing  in  the  court  below. 

"  I  brought  her  with  me  for  the  sake  of  her 
company  on  the  road,"  replied  she.  "  Pray  give 
the  girl  some  work  to  do,  that  she  may  not  be  idle," 

The  king  could  not  for  some  time  think  of  any 
work  for  her  to  do,  but  at  last  he  said — 

"  I  have  a  lad  who  takes  care  of  my  geese,  she 
may  go  and  help  him." 

Now  the  name  of  this  lad,  whom  the  princess  was 
to  help  in  watching  the  king's  geese,  was  Conrad. 

The  false  bride  said  to  the  prince — 

"  Dear  husband,  pray  do  me  one  piece  of  kindness." 

"  That  I  will,"  said  the  prince. 


144        GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

"  Then  tell  one  of  your  knackers  to  cut  off  the 
head  of  the  horse  I  rode  upon,  for  it  was  very 
unruly,  and  plagued  me  sadly  on  the  road." 

In  reality  she  was  very  much  afraid  lest  Falada 
should  some  day  or  other  speak,  and  tell  all  that 
she  had  done  to  the  princess.  She  carried  her  point, 
and  the  faithful  Falada  was  killed.  When  the  true 
princess  heard  of  it  she  wept,  and  begged  the  man 
to  nail  up  Falada's  head  over  a  large  dark  gate  of 
the  city,  through  which  she  had  to  pass  every 
morning  and  evening,  that  there  she  might  see  him 
sometimes.  The  slaughterer  said  he  would  do  as 
she  wished,  and  he  cut  off  the  head,  and  nailed  it  up 
under  the  dark  gate. 

Early  the  next  morning,  as  the  princess  and 
Conrad  went  through  the  gate,  she  said  sorrow- 
fully— 

"  Falada,  Falada,  there  thou  hangest  !  " 
The  head  answered — 

"  Bride,  bride,  there  thou  goest  ! 
Alas,   alas  !  if  thy  mother  knew  it. 
Sadly,  sadly  would  she  rue  it," 

Then  they  went  out  of  the  city,  and  drove  the  geese 
on.  AVhen  they  were  come  to  a  meadow  she  sat 
down  upon  a  bank  there,  and  let  down  her  waving 
locks  of  hair,  which  were  like  pure  gold ;  and  when 
Conrad  saw  it  he  ran  up,  and  would  have  pulled 
some  of  the  locks  out,  but  the  princess  cried — 


THE  GOOSE-GIRL.  145 

**  Blow,  breezes,  blow  ! 
Let  Conrad's  hat  go  ! 
Blow,  breezes,  blow ! 
Let  him  after  It  go  ! 
O'er  hills,  dales,  and  rocks, 
Away  be  it  whirled, 
Till  my  golden  locks 
Are  all  combed  and  curled." 

Then  there  came  a  wind  so  strong  that  it  blew 
off  Conrad's  hat.  Away  it  flew  over  the  hills,  and 
he  was  forced  to  turn  and  run  after  it,  so  that  when 
he  came  back  she  had  done  combing  and  curling  her 
hair,  and  had  put  it  up  again  safely,  and  he  could  not 
get  any  of  it.  He  was  very  angry  and  sulky,  and 
would  not  speak  to  her;  but  they  watched  the  geese 
until  it  grew  dark,  and  then  drove  them  homewards. 

The  next  morning,  as  they  were  going  through 
the  dark  gate,  the  poor  girl  looked  up  at  Falada's 
head,  and  cried — 

"  Falada,  Falada,  there  thou  hangest ! " 

It  answered — 

"  Bride,  bride,  there  thou  goest ! 
Alas,  alas  !  if  thy  mother  knew  it, 
Sadly,  sadly  would  she  rue  it." 

Then  she  drove  on  the  geese,  and  sat  down  again 
in  the  meadow,  and  began  to  comb  out  her  hair  as 
before,  and  Conrad  ran  up  to  her,  and  wanted  to 
take  hold  of  it.  The  princess  repeated  the  words 
she  had  used  the  day  before,  when  the  wind  came 
and  blew  away  his  hat,  and  off  it  flew  a  great  way, 
K 


146  GEliMAN    FOLKLORE    TALES. 

over  the  hills  and  far  away,  so  that  he  had  to  run 
after  it.  When  he  returned,  she  had  bound  up  her 
hair  again,  and  all  was  safe.  So  they  watched  the 
geese  until  it  grew  dark. 

In  the  evening,  after  they  came  home,  Conrad 
went  to  the  old  king  and  said — 

*'  I  won't  have  that  strange  girl  to  help  me  to 
keep  the  geese  any  longer." 

"Whyf  said  the  king. 

"  Because  instead  of  doing  any  good  she  does 
nothing  but  tease  me  all  day  long." 

Then  the  king  made  him  tell  what  had  happened, 
and  Conrad  said — 

"AVhen  we  go  in  the  morning  through  the  dark 
gate  with  our  flock  of  geese,  she  cries  and  talks  with 
the  head  of  a  horse  that  hangs  upon  the  wall,  and 
the  head  answers  her." 

And  Conrad  went  on  telling  the  king  what  had 
happened  in  the  meadow  where  the  geese  fed ;  how 
his  hat  was  blown  away,  and  how  he  was  forced  to 
run  after  it  and  leave  his  flock  of  geese  to  them- 
selves. The  old  king  told  the  boy  to  go  out  again 
the  next  day,  and  when  morning  came  he  placed 
himself  behind  the  dark  gate,  and  heard  how  the 
princess  spoke  to  Falada,  and  how  Falada  answered. 
Then  he  went  into  the  field  and  hid  himself  in  a 
bush  by  the  meadow's  side,  and  he  soon  saw  with 
his  own  eyes  how  they  drove  the  flock  of  geese,  and 
how,  after  a  little  time,  she  let  down  her  hair  that 


THE    GOOSE-GIRL.  147 

glittered  in  the  sun.  Then  he  heard  her  call  the 
wind,  and  soon  there  came  a  gust  that  carried  away 
Conrad's  hat,  and  away  he  went  after  it,  while  the 
girl  went  on  combing  and  curling  her  hair.  All  this 
the  old  king  saw ;  so  he  went  home  without  having 
been  observed,  and  when  the  goose-girl  came  back  in 
the  evening,  he  called  her  aside  and  asked  her  why 
she  did  so.    She  burst  into  tears,  and  said — 

"  That  I  must  not  tell  you  nor  any  man,  or  I 
shall  lose  my  life." 

The  old  king  begged  hard,  but  she  would  tell  him 
nothing.     Then  he  said — 

"  If  you  will  not  tell  me  thy  story,  tell  thy  grief 
to  the  iron  stove  there,"  and  then  he  went  away. 

Then  the  princess  crept  into  the  stove,  and,  weep- 
ing and  lamenting,  she  poured  forth  her  whole 
heart,  saying — 

"  I  am  alone  in  the  whole  world,  though  I  am  a 
king's  daughter.  A  treacherous  waiting-maid  has 
taken  my  place  and  compelled  me  to  put  off  my 
royal  dress,  and  even  taken  my  place  with  my  bride- 
groom, while  I  have  to  work  as  a  goose-girl.  If 
my  mother  knew  it,  it  would  break  her  heart." 

The  old  king,  however,  was  standing  by  the  stove, 
listening  to  what  the  princess  said,  and  overheard  it 
all.  He  ordered  royal  clothes  to  be  put  upon  her, 
and  gazed  at  her  in  wonder,  she  was  so  beautiful. 
Then  he  called  his  son,  and  told  him  that  he  had 
only  a   false   bride,   for   that   she  was  merely  the 


148        GERMAN  FOLKLOKE  TALES. 

waiting-maid,  while  the  true  bride  stood  by.  The 
young  prince  rejoiced  when  he  saw  the  princess's 
beauty,  and  heard  how  meek  and  patient  she  had 
been,  and  the  king  ordered  a  great  feast  to  be  got 
ready  for  all  his  court.  The  bridegroom  sat  at  the 
top  of  the  table,  with  the  false  princess  on  one  side 
and  the  true  one  on  the  other ;  but  the  waiting-maid 
did  not  recognise  the  princess,  for  her  beauty  was 
quite  dazzling. 

When  they  had  eaten  and  drunk,  and  were  very 
merry,  the  old  king  said  he  would  tell  them  a  tale. 
So  he  began,  and  told  all  the  story  of  the  princess, 
as  if  it  were  a  tale  he  had  heard,  and  he  asked  the 
waiting- woman  what  she  thought  ought  to  be  done 
to  any  one  who  behaved  so  badly  as  the  servant  in 
the  story. 

"  Nothing  better,"  said  the  false  bride,  "  than  that 
she  should  be  thrown  into  a  cask  stuck  round  with 
sharp  nails,  and  that  two  white  horses  should  be 
put  to  it,  and  should  drag  it  from  street  to  street 
till  she  were  dead." 

"  Thou  art  she,"  said  the  old  king,  "  and  as  thou 
hast  judged  thyself,  so  it  shall  be  done  to  thee." 

Then  the  young  prince  was  married  to  his  true 
wife,  and  they  reigned  over  the  kingdom  in  peace 
and  happiness  all  their  lives. 


HANS   JAGENTEUFEL 

It  is  commonly  believed  that  if  any  person 
is  guilty  of  a  crime  for  which  he  deserves  to 
lose  his  head,  he  will,  if  he  escape  punishment 
during  his  lifetime,  be  condemned  after  his 
death  to  wander  about  with  his  head  under  his 
arm. 

In  the  year  1644  a  woman  of  Dresden  went  out 
early  one  Sunday  morning  into  a  neighbouring 
wood  for  the  purpose  of  collecting  acorns.  In  an 
open  space,  at  a  spot  not  very  far  from  the  place 
which  is  called  the  Lost  Water,  she  heard  some- 
body blow  a  very  strong  blast  upon  a  hunting- 
horn,  and  immediately  afterwards  a  heavy  fall 
succeeded,  as  though  a  large  tree  had  fallen  to  the 
ground.  The  woman  was  greatly  alarmed,  and 
concealed  her  little  bag  of  acorns  among  the 
grass.  Shortly  afterwards  the  horn  was  blown  a 
second  time,  and  on  looking  round  she  saw  a  man 
without  a  head,  dressed  in  a  long  grey  cloak, 
and  riding  upon   a   grey  horse.       He    was  booted 

149 


150        GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

and  spurred,  and  had  a  bugle-horn  hanging  at  his 
back. 

As  he  rode  past  her  very  quietly  she  regained 
her  courage,  went  on  gathering  the  acorns,  and 
when  evening  came  returned  home  undisturbed. 

Nine  days  afterwards,  the  woman  returned  to 
that  spot  for  the  purpose  of  again  collecting  the 
acorns,  and  as  she  sat  down  by  the  Forsterberg, 
peeling  an  apple,  she  heard  behind  her  a  voice 
calling  out  to  her — 

"  Have  you  taken  a  whole  sack  of  acorns  and 
nobody  tried  to  punish  you  for  doing  so  1 " 

'•  No,"  said  she.  "  The  foresters  are  very  kind 
to  the  poor,  and  they  have  done  nothing  to  me — 
the  Lord  have  mercy  on  my  sins  !  " 

With  these  words  she  turned  about,  and  there 
stood  he  of  the  grey  cloak,  but  this  time  he  was 
without  his  horse,  and  carried  his  head,  which 
was  covered  with  curling  brown  hair,  under  his 
arm. 

The  woman  shrank  from  him  in  alarm,  but  the 
spirit  said — 

"  Ye  do  well  to  pray  to  God  to  forgive  you  your 
sins,  it  was  never  my  good  lot  to  do  so." 

Thereupon  he  related  to  her  how  that  he  had 
lived  about  one  hundred  and  thirty  years  before, 
and  was  called  Hans  Jagenteufel,  as  his  father  had 
been  before  him,  and  how  his  father  had  often 
besought  him  not  to  be  too  hard  upon  poor  people, 


HANS   JAGENTEUFEL.  151 

how  he  had  paid  no  regard  to  the  advice  his  father 
had  given  him,  but  had  passed  his  time  in  drinking 
and  carousing,  and  in  all  manner  of  wickedness,  for 
whicli  he  was  now  condemned  to  wander  about  the 
world  as  an  evil  spirit. 


THE  WAITS  OF  BREMEN. 

An  honest  farmer  had  once  an  ass  that  had  been  a 
faithful  hard-working  slave  to  him  for  a  great  many 
years,  but  was  now  growing  old,  and  every  day 
more  and  more  unfit  for  work.  His  master  there- 
fore was  tired  of  keeping  him  to  live  at  ease  like  a 
gentleman,  and  so  began  to  think  of  putting  an  end 
to  him.  The  ass,  who  was  a  shrewd  hand,  saw  that 
some  mischief  was  in  the  wind,  so  he  took  himself 
slily  off,  and  began  his  journey  towards  Bremen. 

"There,"  thought  he  to  himself,  "as  I  have  a 
good  voice,  I  may  chance  to  be  chosen  town 
musician." 

After  he  had  travelled  a  little  way,  he  spied  a  dog 
lying  by  the  roadside,  and  panting  as  if  very  tired. 

"  What  makes  you  pant  so,  my  friend  "i "  said  the 
ass. 

"  Alas  !  "  said  the  dog,  "  my  master  was  going  to 
knock  me  on  the  head,  because  I  am  old  and  weak, 
and  can  no  longer  make  myself  useful  to  him  in 
hunting,  so  I  ran  away.  But  what  can  I  do  to 
earn  my  livelihood  1 " 

152 


THE   WAITS    OF   BREMEN.  153 

"  Hark  ye,"  said  the  ass,  "  I  am  going  to  Bremen 
to  turn  musician.  Come  with  me,  and  try  what 
you  can  do  in  the  same  way." 

The  dog  said  he  was  willing,  and  on  they  went. 

They  had  not  gone  far  before  they  saw  a  cat 
sitting  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  with  tears  in  her 
eyes,  and  making  a  most  rueful  face. 

"Pray,  my  good  lady,"  said  the  ass,  "what's 
the  matter  with  you  ?  You  look  quite  out  of 
spirits." 

"Ah,  me!  "  said  the  cat.  "How  can  a  body  be 
in  good  spirits  when  one's  life  is  in  danger?  Be- 
cause I  am  beginning  to  grow  old,  and  had  rather 
lie  at  my  ease  before  the  fire  than  run  about  the 
house  after  the  mice,  my  mistress  laid  hold  of  me, 
and  was  going  to  drown  me,  and  though  I  have 
been  lucky  enough  to  get  away  from  her,  I  know 
not  how  I  am  to  live." 

"  Oh  !  "  said  the  ass,  "  by  all  means  go  with  us  to 
Bremen.  You  are  a  good  night-singer,  and  may 
make  your  fortune  as  one  of  the  waits." 

The  cat  was  pleased  with  the  thought,  and  joined 
the  party.  Soon  afterwards,  as  they  were  passing 
by  a  farmyard,  they  saw  a  cock  perched  upon  a  gate, 
screaming  out  with  all  his  might  and  main. 

"  Bravo  !  "  said  the  ass.  "  Upon  my  word,  you 
make  a  famous  noise.    Pray,  what  is  all  this  about?" 

"  Why,"  said  the  cock,  "'  I  was  just  now  telling 
all  our  neighbours  that  we  were  to  have  fine  weather 


154  GERMAN   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

fur  our  washing-day ;  and  yet  my  mistress  and  the 
cook  don't  thank  me  for  my  pains,  but  threaten  to 
cut  my  head  off  to-morrow,  and  make  broth  of  me 
for  the  guests  that  are  coming  on  Sunday." 

"  Heaven  forbid  !  "  said  the  ass.  "  Come  with  us. 
Anything  will  be  better  than  staying  here.  Besides, 
who  knows,  if  we  take  care  to  sing  in  tune,  we  may 
get  up  a  concert  of  our  own,  so  come  along  with  us." 

"  AVith  all  my  heart,"  replied  the  cock  ;  so  they 
all  four  went  on  jollily  together  towards  Bremen. 

They  could  not,  however,  reach  the  town  the  first 
day,  so  when  night  came  on  they  turned  off  the 
high-road  into  a  wood  to  sleep.  The  ass  and  the 
dog  laid  themselves  down  under  a  great  tree,  and 
the  cat  climbed  up  into  the  branches;  while  the 
cock,  thinking  that  the  higher  he  sat  the  safer  he 
should  be,  flew  up  to  the  very  top  of  the  tree,  and 
then,  according  to  his  custom,  before  he  sounded  his 
trumpet  and  went  to  sleep,  looked  out  on  all  sides 
to  see  that  everything  was  well.  In  doing  this  he 
saw  afar  oS  something  bright,  and  calling  to  his 
companions,  said — 

"  There  must  be  a  house  no  great  way  off,  for  I 
see  a  light." 

"  If  that  be  the  case,"  replied  the  ass,  "  we  had 
better  change  our  quarters,  for  our  lodging  here  is 
not  the  best  in  the  world." 

"  Besides,"  said  the  dog,  "  I  should  not  be  the 
worse  for  a  bone  or  two." 


THE   WAITS    OF   BREMEN.  155 

"  And  may  be,"  remarked  the  cat,  "  a  stray  mouse 
will  be  found  somewhere  about  the  premises." 

So  they  walked  off  together  towards  the  spot 
where  the  cock  had  seen  the  light ;  and  as  they 
drew  near,  it  became  larger  and  brighter,  till  they 
came  at  last  to  a  lonely  house,  in  which  was  a  gang 
of  robbers. 

The  ass,  being  the  tallest  of  the  company,  marched 
up  to  the  window  and  peeped  in. 

"  Well,"  said  the  cock,  "  what  do  you  see  1  " 

^'  What  do  I  see  *?  "  replied  the  ass.  "  Why,  I  see 
a  table  spread  with  all  kinds  of  good  things,  and 
robbers  sitting  round  it  making  merry." 

"  That  would  be  a  noble  lodging  for  us,"  said  the 
cock. 

"Yes,"  rejoined  the  ass,  "if  we  could  only  get 
in." 

They  laid  their  heads  together  to  see  how  they 
could  get  the  robbers  out,  and  at  last  they  hit  upon 
a  plan.  The  ass  set  himself  upright  on  his  hind- 
legs,  with  his  fore-feet  resting  on  the  window ;  the 
dog  got  upon  his  back ;  the  cat  scrambled  up  to  the 
dog's  shoulders,  and  the  cock  flew  up  and  sat  upon 
the  cat.  When  all  were  ready  the  cock  gave  the 
signal,  and  up  struck  the  Avhole  band  of  music.  The 
ass  brayed,  the  dog  barked,  the  cat  mewed,  and  the 
cock  crew.  Then  they  all  broke  through  the  window 
at  once,  and  came  tumbling  into  the  room  amongst 
the  broken  glass,  with  a  hideous  clatter.     The  rob- 


156        GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

bers,  who  had  been  not  a  little  frightened  by  the 
opening  concert,  had  now  no  doubt  that  some 
frightful  hobgoblins  had  broken  in  upon  them,  and 
scampered  away  as  fast  as  they  could. 

The  coast  once  clear,  the  travellers  soon  sat  down 
and  despatched  what  the  robbers  had  left,  with  as 
much  eagerness  as  if  they  had  not  hoped  to  eat 
again  for  a  month.  As  soon  as  they  had  had 
enough  they  put  out  the  lights,  and  each  once 
more  sought  out  a  resting-place  to  his  liking.  The 
donkey  laid  himself  down  upon  a  heap  of  straw  in 
the  yard ;  the  dog  stretched  himself  upon  a  mat 
behind  the  door ;  the  cat  rolled  herself  up  on  the 
hearth  before  the  warm  ashes ;  the  cock  perched 
upon  a  beam  on  the  top  of  the  house ;  and  as  all 
were  rather  tired  with  their  journey,  they  soon  fell 
fast  asleep. 

About  midnight,  however,  when  the  robbers  saw 
from  afar  that  the  lights  were  out  and  that  all  was 
quiet,  they  began  to  think  that  they  had  been  in 
too  great  a  hurry  to  run  away ;  and  one  of  them, 
who  was  bolder  than  the  rest,  went  to  see  what  was 
going  on.  Finding  everything  still,  he  marched 
into  the  kitchen,  and  groped  about  till  he  found  a 
match  in  order  to  light  a  candle.  Espying  the 
glittering  fiery  eyes  of  the  cat,  he  mistook  them  for 
live  coals,  and  held  the  match  to  them  to  light  it. 
The  cat,  however,  not  understanding  such  a  joke, 
sprang  at  his  face,  and  spat,  and   scratched  him. 


THE   WAITS    OF   BREMEN.  157 

This  frightened  him  dreadfully,  and  away  he  ran  to 
the  back  door,  where  the  dog  jumped  up  and  bit 
him  in  the  leg.  As  he  was  crossing  over  the  yard 
the  ass  kicked  him ;  and  the  cock,  who  had  been 
awakened  by  the  noise,  crew  with  all  his  might. 

At  this  the  robber  ran  back  as  fast  as  he  could 
to  his  comrades,  and  told  the  captain  that  a  horrid 
witch  had  got  into  the  house,  and  had  scratched  his 
face  with  her  long  bony  fingers — that  a  man  with  a 
knife  in  his  hand  had  hidden  himself  behind  the 
door,  and  stabbed  him  in  the  leg — that  a  black 
monster  stood  in  the  yard  and  struck  him  with  a 
club — and  that  the  devil  sat  upon  the  top  of  the 
house,  and  cried  out — 

"  Throw  the  rascal  up  here !  " 

After  this  the  robbers  never  dared  to  go  back  to 
the  house ;  but  the  musicians  were  so  pleased  with 
their  quarters,  that  they  never  found  their  way  to 
Bremen,  but  took  up  their  abode  in  the  wood.  And 
there  they  live,  I  dare  say,  to  this  very  day. 


THE   FLAMING   CASTLE. 

Upon  a  high  mountain  in  the  Tyrol  there  stands  ar 
old  castle,  in  which  there  burns  a  fire  every  night, 
and  the  flashes  of  that  fire  are  so  large  that  they  rise 
up  over  the  walls,  and  may  be  seen  far  and  wide. 

It  happened  once  that  an  old  woman  in  want  of 
firewood  was  gathering  the  fallen  twigs  and  branches 
upon  this  castle-crowned  mountain,  and  at  length 
arrived  at  the  castle  door.  To  indulge  her  curiosity 
she  began  peering  about  her,  and  at  last  entered,  not 
without  difiiculty,  for  it  was  all  in  ruins  and  not  easily 
accessible.  When  she  reached  the  courtyard,  there 
she  beheld  a  goodly  company  of  nobles  and  ladies 
seated  and  feasting  at  a  huge  table.  There  were, 
likewise,  plenty  of  servants,  who  waited  upon  them, 
changing  their  plates,  handing  round  the  viands,  and 
pouring  out  wine  for  the  party. 

As  she  thus  stood  gazing  upon  them,  there  came 
one  of  the  servants,  who  drew  her  on  one  side,  and 
placed  a  piece  of  gold  in  the  pocket  of  her  apron, 
upon  which  the  whole  scene  vanished  in  an  instant, 
and  the  poor  frightened  old  woman  was  left  to  find 

1&8 


THE   FLAMING   CASTLE.  159 

her  way  back  as  well  as  she  could.  However,  she 
got  outside  the  courtyard,  and  there  stood  before 
her  a  soldier  with  a  lighted  match,  Avliose  head  was 
not  placed  upon  his  neck,  but  held  by  him  under  his 
arm.  He  immediately  addressed  the  old  woman, 
and  commanded  her  not  to  tell  any  one  what  she 
had  seen  and  heard  upon  peril  of  evil  befalling  her. 

At  length  the  woman  reached  home,  full  of 
anguish,  still  keeping  possession  of  the  gold,  but 
telling  no  one  whence  she  had  obtained  it.  When 
the  magistrates,  however,  got  wind  of  the  affair,  she 
was  summoned  before  them,  but  she  would  not  speak 
one  word  upon  the  subject,  excusing  herself  by  say- 
ing that  if  she  uttered  one  word  respecting  it  great 
evil  w^ould  ensue  to  her.  When,  however,  they 
pressed  her  more  strictly,  she  discovered  to  them  all 
that  had  happened  to  her  in  the  Fiery  Castle,  even 
to  the  smallest  particular.  In  an  instant,  almost 
before  her  relation  was  fully  ended,  she  was  carried 
away,  and  no  one  could  ever  learn  whither  she  fled. 

A  year  or  two  afterwards,  a  young  nobleman,  a 
knight,  and  one  well  experienced  in  all  things,  tooli 
up  his  abode  in  those  parts.  In  order  that  he  might 
ascertain  the  issue  of  this  affair,  he  set  out  on  foot 
with  his  servant  in  the  middle  of  the  night  on  the 
road  to  the  mountain.  With  great  difficulty  they 
made  the  ascent,  and  were  on  their  way  warned  six 
times  by  an  unknown  voice  to  desist  from  their 
attempt. 


160        GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

They  kept  on,  however,  heedless  of  this  caution, 
and  at  length  reached  the  door  of  the  castle.  There 
again  stood  the  soldier  as  a  sentinel,  and  he  called 
out  as  usual — 

"Who  goes  there r' 

The  nobleman,  who  was  bold  of  heart,  gave  for 
answer — 

"  It  is  I." 

Upon  this  the  spirit  inquired  further — 

"Who  art  thou r' 

This  time  the  nobleman  made  no  answer,  but 
desired  his  servant  to  hand  him  his  sword.  When 
this  was  done,  a  black  horseman  came  riding  out  of 
the  castle,  against  whom  the  nobleman  would  have 
waged  battle.  The  horseman,  however,  dragged 
him  up  upon  his  horse  and  rode  with  him  into  the 
courtyard,  while  the  soldier  chased  the  servant  down 
the  mountain.    The  nobleman  was  never  more  seen. 


THE  MONKS  AT  THE  FEEEY. 

Feom  time  immemorial  a  ferry  has  existed  from 
Andernach  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  Ehine. 
Formerly  it  was  more  in  use  than  at  present,  there 
being  then  a  greater  intercourse  between  the  two 
shores  of  the  river,  much  of  which  might  be  traced 
to  the  Convent  of  St.  Thomas,  once  the  most  im- 
portant and  flourishing  nunnery  on  the  river. 

Close  by  this  ferry,  on  the  margin  of  the  Ehine, 
but  elevated  somewhat  above  the  level  of  the  water, 
stands  a  long,  roofless,  ruinous  building,  the  remains 
of  the  castle  of  Friedrichstein,  better  known,  how- 
ever, to  the  peasantry,  and  to  all  passengers  on  the 
river,  as  the  Devil's  House.  Hoav  it  came  by  this 
suspicious  appellative  there  are  many  traditions  to 
explain.  Some  say  that  the  Prince  of  Neuwied, 
who  erected  it,  so  ground  down  his  subjects  for  its 
construction,  that  they  unanimously  gave  it  that 
name.  Others  derive  its  popular  sobriquet  from  the 
godless  revelries  of  the  same  prince  within  its  walls, 
and  the  wild  deeds  of  his  companions  in  wickedness  j 
while  a  third  class  of  local  historians  insist  upon  it 
L 


162        GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

that  the  ruin  takes  its  name  from  the  congregation 
of  fiendish  shapes  which  resort  there  on  special 
occasions,  and  the  riot  and  rout  which  they  create 
in  the  roofless  chambers,  reeking  vaults,  and  crumb- 
ling corridors  of  the  desolate  edifice.  It  is  to  this 
ruin,  and  of  the  adjacent  ferry,  that  the  following 
legend  belongs. 

It  was  in  the  time  when  the  celebrated  Convent 
of  St.  Thomas  over  Andernach  existed  in  its  pristine 
magnificence,  that  late  on  an  autumnal  night  the 
ferryman  from  that  city  to  the  Devil's  House  on  the 
other  side  of  the  river,  who  lived  on  the  edge  of 
the  bank  below  the  ruins  of  the  ancient  palace  of 
the  kings  of  Austrasia,  was  accosted  by  a  stranger, 
who  desired  to  be  put  across  just  as  the  man  was 
about  to  haul  up  his  boat  for  the  day.  The  stranger 
seemed  to  be  a  monk,  for  he  was  closely  cowled,  and 
gowned  from  head  to  foot  in  the  long,  dark,  flow- 
ing garb  of  some  ascetic  order. 

"  Hilloa !  ferry,"  he  shouted  aloud  as  he  approached 
the  shore  of  the  river,  "  hilloa  !  " 

"  Here,  ahoy  !  here,  most  reverend  father ! " 
answered  the  poor  ferryman.  "What  would  ye 
ha^e  with  me  ]  " 

"  I  would  that  you  ferry  me  across  the  Rhine  to 
yonder  shore  of  the  river,"  replied  the  monk.  "  I 
come  from  the  Convent  of  St.  Thomas,  and  I  go 
afar  on  a  weighty  mission.  Now,  be  ye  quick,  my 
good  friend,  and  run  me  over." 


THE   MONKS    AT   THE   FEERY.  163 

"  Most  willingly,  reverend  father,"  said  the  ferry- 
man. "Most  willingly.  Step  into  my  boat,  and 
I  '11  put  you  across  the  current  in  a  twinkling." 

The  dark-looking  monk  entered  the  boat,  and  the 
ferryman  shoved  off  from  the  bank.  They  soon 
reached  the  opposite  shore.  The  ferryman,  however, 
had  scarce  time  to  give  his  fare  a  good-evening  ere 
he  disappeared  from  his  sight,  in  the  direction  of 
the  Devil's  House.  Pondering  a  little  on  this 
strange  circumstance,  and  inwardly  thinking  that 
the  dark  monk  might  as  well  have  paid  him  his 
fare,  or,  at  least,  bade  him  good-night  before  he 
took  such  unceremonious  leave,  he  rowed  slowly 
back  across  the  stream  to  his  abode  at  Andernach. 

"  Hilloa !  ferry,"  once  more  resounded  from  the 
margin  of  the  river  as  he  approached,  "  hilloa !  " 

"  Here,  ahoy ! "  responded  the  ferryman,  but 
with  some  strange  sensation  of  fear.    "  What  would 

ye?" 

He  rowed  to  the  shore,  but  he  could  see  no  one 
for  a  while,  for  it  was  now  dark.  As  he  neared  the 
landing-place,  however,  he  became  aware  of  the 
presence  of  two  monks,  garbed  exactly  like  his 
late  passenger,  standing  together,  concealed  by  the 
shadow  of  the  massive  ruins. 

"  Here  !  here  !  "  they  cried. 

"We  would  ye  would  ferry  us  over  to  yonder 
shore  of  the  river,"  said  the  foremost  of  the  twain. 
"  We  go  afar  on  a  weighty  errand  from  the  Convent 


164  GERMAN  FOLKLORE   TALES. 

of  St.  Thomas,  and  we  must  onwards  this  night. 
So  be  up  quick,  friend,  and  run  us  over  soon." 

"Step  in,  then,"  said  the  ferryman,  not  over 
courteously,  for  he  remembered  the  trick  played  on 
him  by  their  predecessor. 

They  entered  the  boat,  and  the  ferryman  put  off. 
Just  as  the  prow  of  the  boat  touched  the  opposite 
bank  of  the  river,  both  sprang  ashore,  and  disap- 
peared at  once  from  his  view,  like  him  who  had 
gone  before  them. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  the  ferryman,  "  if  they  call  that 
doing  good,  or  acting  honestly,  to  cheat  a  hard- 
working poor  fellow  out  of  the  reward  of  his 
labour,  I  do  not  know  what  bad  means,  or  what  it 
is  to  act  knavishly." 

He  waited  a  little  while  to  see  if  they  would 
return  to  pay  him,  but  finding  that  they  failed  to 
do  so,  he  put  across  once  more  to  his  home  at 
Andernach. 

"  Hilloa  !  ferry,"  again  hailed  a  voice  from  the 
shore  to  which  he  was  making,  "  hilloa !  " 

The  ferryman  made  no  reply  to  this  suspicious 
hail,  but  pushed  off  his  boat  from  the  landing-place, 
fully  resolved  in  his  own  mind  to  have  nothing  to 
do  with  any  more  such  black  cattle  that  night. 

"  Hilloa  !  ferry,"  was  again  repeated  in  a  sterner 
voice.     "  Art  dead  or  asleep  ? " 

"Here,  ahoy!"  cried  the  ferryman.  "What 
would  ye  ? " 


THE  MONKS  AT  THE  FEKRY.       165 

He  had  thought  of  passing  downwards  to  the 
other  extremity  of  the  town,  and  there  mooring  his 
barque  below  the  place  she  usually  lay  in,  lest  any 
other  monks  might  feel  disposed  to  make  him  their 
slave  without  offering  any  recompense.  He  had, 
however,  scarcely  entertained  the  idea,  when  three 
black-robed  men,  clothed  as  the  former,  in  long, 
flowing  garments,  but  more  closely  cowled,  if 
possible,  than  they,  stood  on  the  very  edge  of  the 
stream,  and  beckoned  him  to  them.  It  was  in  vain 
for  him  to  try  to  evade  them,  and  as  if  to  render 
any  effort  to  that  effect  more  nugatory,  the  moon 
broke  forth  from  the  thick  clouds,  and  lit  up  the 
scene  all  around  with  a  radiance  like  day. 

"  Step  in,  holy  fathers  !  step  in  !  quick  ! "  said  he, 
in  a  gruff  voice,  after  they  had  told  him  the  same 
tale  in  the  very  same  words  as  the  three  others  had 
used  who  had  passed  previously. 

They  entered  the  boat,  and  again  the  ferryman 
pushed  off.  They  had  reached  the  centre  of  the 
stream,  when  he  bethought  him  that  it  was  then  a 
good  time  to  talk  of  his  fee,  and  he  resolved  to  have 
it,  if  possible,  ere  they  could  escape  him. 

"But  what  do  you  mean  to  give  me  for  my 
trouble,  holy  fathers  ■? "  he  inquired.  "  Nothing  for 
nothing,  ye  know." 

"  We  shall  give  you  all  that  we  have  to  bestow," 
replied  one  of  the  monks.     "  Won't  that  suffice  1 " 

"  What  is  that  1 "  asked  the  ferrvman. 


166        GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

"  Nothing,"  said  the  monk  who  had  answered  him 
first. 

"  But  our  blessing,"  interposed  the  second  monk. 

"  Blessing  !  bah !  That  won't  do.  I  can't  eat 
blessings  !  "  responded  the  grumbling  ferryman. 

"  Heaven  will  pay  you,"  said  the  third  monk. 

"  That  won't  do  either,"  answered  the  enraged 
ferryman.     "  I  '11  put  back  again  to  Andernach  1 " 

"  Be  it  so,"  said  the  monks. 

The  ferryman  put  about  the  head  of  his  boat,  and 
began  to  row  back  towards  Andernach,  as  he  had 
threatened.  He  had,  however,  scarcely  made  three 
strokes  of  his  oars,  when  a  high  wind  sprang  up 
and  the  waters  began  to  rise  and  rage  and  foam, 
like  the  billows  of  a  storm-vexed  sea.  Soon  a 
hurricane  of  the  most  fearful  kind  followed,  and 
SAvept  over  the  chafing  face  of  the  stream.  In  his 
forty  years'  experience  of  the  river,  the  ferryman 
had  never  before  beheld  such  a  tempest — so  dreadful 
and  so  sudden.  He  gave  himself  up  for  lost,  threw 
down  his  oars,  and  flung  himself  on  his  knees, 
praying  to  Heaven  for  mercy.  At  that  moment  two 
of  the  dark-robed  monks  seized  the  oars  which  he 
had  abandoned,  while  the  third  wrenched  one  of  the 
thwarts  of  the  boat  from  its  place  in  the  centre. 
All  three  then  began  to  belabour  the  wretched  man 
with  all  their  might  and  main,  until  at  length  he 
lay  senseless  and  without  motion  at  the  bottom  of 
the  boat.    The  barque,  which  was  now  veered  about. 


THE   MONKS   AT   THE  FERRY.  167 

bore  them  rapidly  towards  their  original  destination. 
The  only  words  that  passed  on  the  occasion  were  an 
exclamation  of  the  first  monk  who  struck  the  ferry- 
man down. 

"  Steer  your  boat  aright,  friend,"  he  cried,  "  if  you 
value  your  life,  and  leave  off  your  prating.  What 
have  you  to  do  with  Heaven,  or  Heaven  with  you  ?" 

When  the  poor  ferryman  recovered  his  senses, 
day  had  long  dawned,  and  he  was  lying  alone  at  the 
bottom  of  his  boat.  He  found  that  he  had  drifted 
below  Hammerstein,  close  to  the  shore  of  the  right 
bank  of  the  river.  He  could  discover  no  trace  of 
his  companions.  With  much  difficulty  he  rowed  up 
the  river,  and  reached  the  shore. 

He  learned  afterwards  from  a  gossiping  neighbour, 
that,  as  the  man  returned  from  Neuwied  late  that 
night,  or  rather  early  the  next  morning,  he  met, 
just  emerging  from  the  Devil's  House,  a  large  black 
chariot  running  on  three  huge  wheels,  drawn  by  four 
horses  without  heads.  In  that  vehicle  he  saw  six 
monks  seated  vis-h-vis,  apparently  enjoying  their 
morning  ride.  The  driver,  a  curious-looking  carl, 
with  a  singularly  long  nose,  took,  he  said,  the  road 
along  the  edge  of  the  river,  and  continued  lashing 
his  three  coal-black,  headless  steeds  at  a  tremendous 
rate,  until  a  sharp  turn  hid  them  from  the  man's 
view. 


DOCTOR  ALL-WISE. 

There  was  a  poor  peasant,  named  Crab,  who  once 
drove  two  oxen,  with,  a  load  of  wood,  into  the  city, 
and  there  sold  it  for  two  dollars  to  a  doctor.  The 
doctor  counted  out  the  money  to  him  as  he  sat  at 
dinner,  and  the  peasant,  seeing  how  well  he  fared, 
yearned  to  live  like  him,  and  would  needs  be  a 
doctor  too.  He  stood  a  little  while  in  thought,  and 
at  last  asked  if  he  could  not  become  a  doctor. 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  the  doctor,  "  that  may  be  easily 
managed.  In  the  first  place  you  must  purchase  an 
A,  B,  C  book,  only  taking  care  that  it  is  one  that 
has  got  in  the  front  of  it  a  picture  of  a  cock  crowing. 
Then  sell  your  cart  and  oxen,  and  buy  with  the 
money  clothes,  and  all  the  other  things  needful. 
Thirdly,  and  lastly,  have  a  sign  painted  with  the 
words,  '  I  am  Doctor  All- Wise,'  and  have  it  nailed 
up  before  the  door  of  your  house." 

The  peasant  did  exactly  as  he  had  been  told;  and 
after  he  had  doctored  a  little  while,  it  chanced  that 
a  certain  nobleman  was  robbed  of  a  large  sum  of 
money.      Some  one  told  him  that  there  lived  in  the 

163 


DOCTOR  ALL-WISE.  169 

village  hard  by  a  Doctor  All-Wise,  who  was  sure  to 
be  able  to  tell  him  where  his  money  had  gone.  The 
nobleman  at  once  ordered  his  carriage  to  be  got 
ready  and  rode  into  the  city,  and  having  come  to 
the  doctor,  asked  him  if  he  was  Dr.  All- Wise. 

"  Oh  yes,"  answered  he,  "  I  am  Doctor  All- Wise, 
sure  enough." 

"  Will  you  go  with  me,  then,"  said  the  nobleman, 
"  and  get  me  back  my  money  1 " 

"  To  be  sure  I  will,"  said  the  doctor  j  "  but  my 
wife  Grethel  must  go  with  me." 

The  nobleman  was  pleased  to  hear  this,  made 
them  both  get  into  the  carriage  with  him,  and  away 
they  all  rode  together.  When  they  arrived  at  the 
nobleman's  house  dinner  was  already  prepared,  and 
he  desired  the  doctor  to  sit  down  with  him. 

"  My  wife  Grethel,  too,"  said  the  doctor. 

As  soon  as  the  first  servant  brought  in  the  first 
dish,  which  was  some  great  delicacy,  the  doctor 
nudged  his  wife,  and  said — 

"Grethel,  that  is  the  first,"  meaning  the  first 
dish. 

The  servant  overheard  his  remark,  and  thought 
he  meant  to  say  he  was  the  first  thief,  which  was 
actually  the  case,  so  he  was  sore  troubled,  and  said 
to  his  comrades — 

"The  doctor  knows  everything.  Things  will 
certainly  fall  out  ill,  for  he  said  I  was  the  first 
thief." 


170  GERMAN  FOLKLOKE  TALES. 

The  second  servant  would  not  believe  what  he 
said,  but  at  last  he  was  obliged,  for  when  he 
carried  the  second  dish  into  the  room,  the  doctor 
remarked  to  his  wife — 

"  Grethel,  that  is  the  second." 

The  second  servant  was  now  as  much  frightened 
as  the  first,  and  was  pleased  to  leave  the  apartment. 
The  third  served  no  better,  for  the  doctor  said — 

"  Grethel,  that  is  the  third." 

!N'ow  the  fourth  carried  in  a  dish  which  had  a 
cover  on  it,  and  the  nobleman  desired  the  doctor 
to  show  his  skill  by  guessing  what  was  under  the 
cover.  Now  it  was  a  crab.  The  doctor  looked  at 
the  dish,  and  then  at  the  cover,  and  could  not  at 
all  divine  what  they  contained,  nor  how  to  get  out 
of  the  scrape.  At  length  he  said,  half  to  himself 
and  half  aloud — 

"  Alas  !  poor  crab  ! " 

When  the  nobleman  heard  this,  he  cried  out — 

"  You  have  guessed  it,  and  now  I  am  sure  you 
will  know  where  my  money  is." 

The  servant  was  greatly  troubled  at  this,  and  he 
winked  to  the  doctor  to  follow  him  out  of  the 
room,  and  no  sooner  did  he  do  so  than  the  whole 
four  who  had  stolen  the  gold  stood  before  him, 
and  said  that  they  would  give  it  up  instantly,  and 
give  him  a  good  sum  to  boot,  provided  he  would 
not  betray  them,  for  if  he  did  their  necks  would  pay 
for  it.     The  doctor  promised,  and  they  conducted 


DOCTOH  ALL- WISE.  171 

him  to  the  place  where  the  gold  lay  concealed.  The 
doctor  was  well  pleased  to  see  it,  and  went  back  to 
the  nobleman,  and  said — 

"  My  lord,  I  will  now  search  in  my  book  and 
discover  where  the  money  is." 

Now  the  fifth  servant  had  crept  into  an  oven  to 
hear  what  the  doctor  said.  He  sat  for  some  time 
turning  over  the  leaves  of  his  A,  B,  C  book,  looking 
for  the  picture  of  the  crowing  cock,  and  as  he  did 
not  find  it  readily,  he  exclaimed — 

"  I  know  you  are  in  here,  and  you  must  come 
out." 

Then  the  man  in  the  oven,  thinking  the  doctor 
spoke  of  him,  jumped  out  in  a  great  fright,  saying — 

"  The  man  knows  everything." 

Then  Doctor  All- Wise  showed  the  nobleman 
where  the  gold  was  hidden,  but  he  said  nothing  as 
to  who  stole  it.  So  he  received  a  great  reward 
from  all  parties,  and  became  a  very  famous  man. 


THE  WHITE  MAIDEN. 

It  is  now  centuries  since  a  young  noble  of  the 
neighbourhood  was  hunting  in  the  valleys  which 
lie  behind  the  hills  that  skirt  the  Ehine  opposite 
the  ancient  town  of  St.  Goar.  In  the  heat  of  the 
pursuit  he  followed  the  game  to  the  foot  of  the 
acclivity  on  which  are  seated  the  ruins  of  Thurnberg, 
and  there  it  disappeared  all  at  once  from  his  view.  It 
was  the  noon  of  a  midsummer  day,  and  the  sun 
shone  down  on  him  with  all  its  strength.  Despair- 
ing of  being  able  to  find  the  object  of  his  pursuit, 
he  determined  to  clamber  up  the  steep  hillside,  and 
seek  shelter  and  repose  in  the  shadow  of  the  old 
castle,  or,  mayhap,  in  one  of  its  many  crumbling  cham- 
bers. "With  much  labour  he  succeeded  in  reaching 
the  summit,  and  there,  fatigued  with  his  toil,  and 
parched  with  a  bui-ning  thirst,  he  flung  himself  on 
the  ground  beneath  one  of  the  huge  towers,  some 
of  whose  remains  still  rear  their  heads  on  high,  and 
stretched  out  his  tired  limbs  in  the  full  enjoyment 
of  rest. 

"Now,"  said   he,   as    he  wiped  the  perspiration 

172 


THE   WHITE   MAIDEN.  173 

from  his  brow, — "  now  could  I  be  liappy  indeed,  if 
some  kind  being  would  bring  me  a  beaker  of  the 
cool  wine,  which,  they  say,  is  ages  old,  down  there 
in  the  cellars  of  this  castle." 

He  had  scarce  spoken  the  words  when  a  most 
beautiful  maiden  stepped  forth  from  a  cleft  in  the 
ivy-covered  ruin,  bearing  in  one  hand  a  huge  silver 
beaker  of  an  antique  form,  full  to  the  very  brim  of 
foaming  wine.  In  her  other  hand  she  held  a  large 
bunch  of  keys  of  all  sizes.  She  was  clad  in  white 
from  head  to  foot,  her  hair  was  flaxen,  her  skin  was 
like  a  lily,  and  she  had  such  loving  eyes  that  they 
at  once  won  the  heart  of  the  young  noble. 

"Here,"  said  she,  handing  him  the  beaker,  "thy 
wish  is  granted.     Drink  and  be  satisfied." 

His  heart  leaped  within  him  with  joy  at  her  con- 
descension, and  he  emptied  the  contents  of  the  goblet 
at  a  single  draught.  All  the  while  she  looked  at 
him  in  such  a  manner  as  to  intoxicate  his  very  soul, 
so  kindly  and  confidential  were  her  glances.  The 
wine  coursed  through  his  veins  like  liquid  fire,  his 
heart  soon  burned  with  love  for  the  maiden,  and 
the  fever  of  his  blood  was  by  no  means  appeased  by 
the  furtive  looks  which  ever  and  anon  she  cast  upon 
him.  She  apparently  read  his  state  of  mind,  and 
when  his  passion  was  at  its  highest  pitch,  and  all 
restraint  seemed  put  an  end  to  by  the  potent  effects 
of  love  and  wine,  she  disappeared  in  a  moment  by 
the  way  she  came.     The  noble  rushed  after  her  in 


174  GERMAN   FOLKLORE  TALES. 

the  hope  of  detaining  the  fugitive,  or,  at  least,  of 
catching  a  parting  glimpse  of  her  retreating  form, 
but  the  ivy-encircled  cleft,  through  which  she  seemed 
to  have  flitted,  looked  as  though  it  had  not  been 
disturbed  for  centuries,  and  as  he  tried  to  force  his 
way  to  the  gloomy  cavern  below,  a  crowd  of  bats 
and  owls  and  other  foul  birds  of  evil  omen,  aroused 
from  their  repose,  rose  upwards,  and,  amidst  dismal 
hootings  and  fearful  cries,  almost  flung  him  back- 
ward with  the  violence  of  their  flight.  He  spent 
the  remainder  of  the  afternoon  in  search  of  the  lost 
one,  but  without  success.  At  the  coming  of  night 
he  wended  his  way  homeward,  weary,  heart-sick, 
and  overwhelmed  with  an  indefinable  sensation  of 
sadness. 

From  that  day  forth  he  was  an  altered  man — 
altered  in  appearance  as  well  as  in  mind  and  in 
manners.  Pleasure  was  a  stranger  to  his  soul,  and 
he  knew  no  longer  what  it  was  to  enjoy  peace. 
"Wherever  he  went,  whatever  pursuit  he  was  en- 
gaged in,  whether  in  the  chase,  in  the  hall,  in  lady's 
bower,  or  in  chapel,  his  eye  only  saw  one  object — 
the  White  Maiden.  At  the  board  she  stood  in 
imagination  always  before  him,  off'ering  to  his 
fevered  lips  the  cool,  brimming  beaker  ;  and  in  the 
long-drawn  aisles  of  the  chapel  she  was  ever 
present,  beckoning  him  from  his  devotions  to  par- 
take of  the  generous  beverage  which  she  still  bore 
in  her  right  hand.     Every  matron   or  maiden   he 


THE   WHITE   MAIDEN.  175 

met  seemed  by  some  wondrous  process  to  take  her 
shape,  and  even  the  very  trees  of  the  forest  all 
looked  to  his  thought  like  her. 

Thenceforward  he  commenced  to  haunt  the  ruins 
in  which  she  had  appeared  to  him,  still  hoping  to 
see,  once  again,  her  for  whom  he  felt  he  was  dying, 
and  living  alone  in  that  hope.  The  sun  scorched 
him,  but  it  was  nothing  to  the  fever  that  burned 
within  him.  The  rain  drenched  him,  but  he  cared 
not  for  it.  Time  and  change  and  circumstance 
seemed  all  forgotten  by  him,  everything  passed  by 
him  unheeded.  His  whole  existence  was  completely 
swallowed  up  in  one  thought — the  White  Maiden  of 
the  ruined  castle,  and  that,  alas !  was  only  vexation 
of  spirit.  A  deadly  fever  seized  him.  It  was  a 
mortal  disease.  Still  he  raved,  in  his  delirium, 
but  of  her.  One  morn  a  woodman,  who  occasionally 
provided  him  with  food,  found  him  a  corpse  at  the 
entrance  of  the  crevice  in  the  wall  whence  the 
maiden  had  seemed  to  come,  and  where  she  had 
disappeared.  It  was  long  rumoured  that  he  had 
struggled  bravely  with  death — or  rather  that  he 
could  not  die,  because  the  curse  was  upon  him — 
until  the  maiden,  garbed  in  white  as  usual,  appeared 
to  him  once  more.  That  then  he  stretched  forth 
his  hands — she  stooped  over  him.  He  raised  his 
head — she  kissed  his  lips — and  he  died. 

The  White  Maiden,  tradition  says,  has  not  since 
been  seen  in  the  ruins  of  Thurnbersf. 


THE   STUEGEOK 

The  Convent  of  Schwartz-Rheindorf  was  founded 
in  the  year  of  our  Lord  1152  by  the  Bishop  of 
Cologne,  Arnold  Graf  von  Wied,  for  the  reception  of 
noble  ladies  alone,  and  was  placed  by  him  under  the 
strict  rule  of  St.  Benedict.  The  prelate,  who  died 
in  the  year  1159,  lies  buried  beneath  the  high  altar 
of  the  church. 

Among  the  many  other  rights  and  privileges  con- 
ferred on  the  convent  by  the  Bishop  was  the  right 
of  fishing  in  the  river,  within  certain  limits  above 
and  below  the  convent's  territorial  boundaries.  This 
was  a  most  valuable  right  for  a  long  period. 

The  certainty  of  a  profitable  fishing  was  always 
heralded  by  the  appearance  of  two  immense  sturgeon. 
They  came  at  the  commencement  of  each  year,  har- 
bingers of  good  luck,  and  they  were  ever  succeeded 
by  shoals  of  river  fish,  in  such  numbers  as  to  be 
absolutely  inexhaustible  until  the  expiration  of  the 
season.  Of  these  sturgeon  the  one,  a  huge  male, 
always  allowed  himself  to  be  taken  by  the  fishermen, 
but  the  female  was  never  captured.     It  was  under- 

176 


THE   STURGEOX.  177 

stood  by  those  who  knew  all  about  these  matters 
that  on  her  freedom  depended  the  fisher's  success. 
This  good  fortune  lasted  for  centuries. 

It  was,  however,  remarked  that  as  the  discipline 
of  the  convent  became  more  and  more  relaxed,  and 
grace  grew  to  be  less  and  less  among  its  inmates,  the 
fishing  became  more  and  more  unprofitable.  The 
sturgeon,  it  is  true,  still  made  their  appearance, 
but  they  were  spent  and  thin,  and  altogether  unlike 
those  which  had  been  wont  of  yore  to  visit  the 
fishing-ground  of  the  sisterhood.  The  abbess  and 
the  nuns,  however,  either  could  not  or  they  would 
not  perceive  the  cause  of  the  falling  off  in  the  take, 
or  the  change  in  the  appearance  of  the  sturgeon,  but 
the  common  people  who  dwelt  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
convent,  and  especially  those  poor  persons  to  whom 
the  river  had  been  heretofore  a  source  of  support, 
were  neither  slow  in  seeing  the  cause  nor  in  pub- 
lishing the  consequences  to  the  world.  Thus  stood 
matters :  dissoluteness  of  life  on  the  one  hand,  dis- 
tress on  the  other ;  profligacy  and  poverty,  extrava- 
gance and  starvation,  linked  inseparably  together. 

It  was  midwinter.  On  the  bank  of  the  river 
stood  the  purveyor  of  the  convent,  accompanied  by 
the  lady  abbess  herself  and  a  great  number  of  the  nuns. 
They  waited  to  watch  the  first  haul  made  by  the 
fishermen  on  the  New  Year's  morning,  according  to 
the  custom  which  had  prevailed  in  the  convent  for 
centuries.  It  was  not  usual  for  the  river  to  be  open 
M 


178        GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

at  that  time,  but  this  year  there  was  not  a  piece  of 
ice  on  its  surface.  The  fishermen  put  out  in  their 
boats,  and  cast  their  nets  into  the  current ;  then, 
making  the  circuit  of  the  spot,  they  returned  to  the 
bank  and  commenced  to  haul  them  in.  Little 
difficulty  was  at  first  experienced  by  them  in  this 
operation.  For  several  years  preceding  the  supply 
of  fish  had  scarcely  sufficed  to  defray  the  expense  of 
catching.  It  would  seem,  however,  as  if  fortune 
were  inclined  to  smile  on  the  sisterhood  once  more. 
The  nets  had  not  been  more  than  half  drawn  in 
when  the  fishermen  began  to  perceive  that  they  con- 
tained something  heavier  than  usual.  The  lady 
abbess  and  the  nuns  were  made  acquainted  with  the 
circumstance,  and  they  watched,  in  eager  expectancy, 
the  landing  of  the  fish.  The  nets  were  at  length 
with  much  trouble  hauled  on  shore. 

"  Hilloa  ! "  said  the  principal  fisherman,  an  aged 
man,  to  the  purveyor  of  the  convent,  "hast  thou 
ever  seen  such  monsters  before  ?  My  soul !  but  this 
will  glad  the  hearts  of  the  v/hole  convent,  and  make 
many  poor  folk  happy,  an  it  be  but  the  harbinger  of 
a  return  to  the  old  times." 

AVhile  he  spoke  two  immense  sturgeon  were 
landed.  The  abbess  and  her  train  approached  the 
landing-place,  and  admired  the  strength  and  superior 
size  of  the  fish. 

"  It  would  be  but  folly  to  set  one  of  them  free," 
she  partially  soliloquised  and  partially  spoke  to  the 


THE    STURGEON.  179 

purv^eyor.  *'  The  convent  has  not  had  such  a  treat 
for  years  past,  and  we  absolutely  require  some 
change.     I  '11  warrant  me  they  will  eat  delightfully." 

The  purveyor,  a  wily  Jewish-looking  fellow,  who 
passed  for  an  Italian,  at  once  assented  to  the  observa- 
tions of  his  mistress,  and  added  a  few  remarks  of  his 
own  in  support  of  them.  Not  so,  however,  the  old 
fisherman,  who  overheard  the  conversation,  having 
approached  the  abbess  with  the  purveyor  to  learn 
her  will  and  pleasure  as  to  the  disposal  of  the  fish. 

"Nay,  nay,  master,"  he  interposed,  in  his  rough 
way,  "not  so  fast,  not  so  fast.  My  father  fished  on 
this  river  for  full  fifty  years,  and  my  father's  father 
did  the  same ;  and  fifty  years  have  I  drawn  net 
here  too,  all  in  the  service  of  the  noble  ladies  of 
Schwartz-Eheindorf.  Never,  in  that  time,  knew  I 
other  than  this  done  with  these  fish — the  one  to  be 
let  free,  the  other  to  be  given  away  among  the  poor. 
I  '11  do  nought  else  with  them." 

The  abbess  and  the  purveyor  were  but  ill-pleased 
to  hear  what  the  old  man  said. 

"You  must  do  as  I  bid  you,  Herman,"  said  the 
former. 

"  You  must  obey  my  lady,  your  mistress,"  echoed 
the  latter.     "  She  is  too  good  and  gracious  to  ye." 

"  Not  I,"  said  the  old  man  bluntly,—"  not  I.  For 
all  the  broad  lands  on  the  Rhine  I  would  not  have 
hand,  act,  nor  part  in  such  a  matter.  Do  as  ye  list, 
but  I  '11  be  none  your  servant  in  the  matter." 


180        GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

The  old  man  walked  away  as  he  said  these  words, 
and  neither  the  entreaties  of  the  abbess,  the  threats 
of  the  purveyor,  nor  the  interposition  of  some  of  the 
nuns  present  could  bring  him  back. 

Others,  however,  were  soon  found  among  his  com- 
panions Avho  were  less  scrupulous ;  and  the  two 
tish  were  accordingly  removed  to  the  convent,  and 
consigned  to  the  care  of  the  cook,  to  be  served  up 
for  dinner  that  day. 

The  dinner-hour  arrived — the  sisterhood  were  all 
seated  at  table — the  servitors,  marshalled  by  the 
supple  purveyor,  made  their  appearance,  bearing  the 
expected  banquet  in  large  covered  dishes.  A  hasty 
grace  was  muttered,  and  then  every  eye  was  turned 
to  the  covers.  The  abbess  had  ordered  the  sturgeon 
to  be  served  up  first. 

"And  now,  sisters,"  she  said,  with  a  complacent 
look  of  benignant  condescension,  "I  hope  soon  to 
know  how  you  approve  of  our  dinner.  It  is  my 
constant  study  to  make  you  happy,  and  my  efforts 
are  unceasing  to  afford  you  every  gratification  in 
my  power.     Let  us  begin." 

The  covers  were  removed  in  a  twinkling  by  the 
servitors,  the  carvers  clattered  their  knives  and 
forks  impatiently ;  but  what  was  the  surprise  of  all, 
when  every  dish  as  it  was  uncovered  was  found  to 
be  empty.  The  wrath  of  the  abbess  rose  at  the 
sight,  and  the  zeal  of  the  nuns  knew  no  bounds  in 
seconding  her  indignation.    The  cook  was  hurriedly 


THE   STURGEON.  181 

sent  for.  He  stood  before  the  excited  sisterhood 
an  abject,  trembling  wretch,  far  more  like  one  who 
expected  to  be  made  a  victim  of  himself,  than  one 
who  would  voluntarily  make  victims  of  others. 

"How  is  this,  villain?"  exclaimed  the  abbess, 
her  face  reddening  with  rage. 

"  How  's  this,  villain  1 "  echoed  threescore  female 
voices,  some  of  them  not  musical. 

"  Ay,  how  is  this,  hound  ?  "  growled  the  pur- 
veyor. 

"  Do  you  mock  us  V  continued  the  abbess,  as  the 
cook  stood  trembling  and  silent. 

"  Do  you  mock  us  1 "  echoed  the  purveyor,  with 
as  much  dignity  as  he  could  impart  into  his  thin, 
meagre  figure. 

"  Speak !  "  said  the  abbess  in  a  loud  voice,  while 
the  cook  cast  his  eyes  around  as  if  seeking  aid 
against  the  excited  throng  the  room  contained, — 
"  speak ! " 

Thus  urged,  the  cook  proceeded  to  explain — as  far, 
at  least,  as  he  was  able.  He  declared  that  he  had 
cut  up  and  cooked  the  sturgeon,  according  to  the 
directions  he  had  received  from  the  purveyor,  and 
that,  when  dinner  was  served  up,  he  had  sent 
them  up  dressed  in  the  manner  that  official  had 
directed. 

The  abbess  and  her  nuns  were  much  puzzled  how 
to  explain  this  extraordinary  occurrence,  and  each 
busied  herself  in  conjectures  which,  as  usual  in  such 


182        GERMAN  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

cases,  never  approached  the  fact.  At  this  juncture 
the  aged  fisherman  entered  the  room. 

"  My  lady,"  he  said  to  the  abbess,  when  he  learnt 
Avhat  had  occurred,  "  it  is  the  judgment  of  Heaven. 
Even  now  I  saw  the  fish  in  the  river.  I  knew  them 
well,  and  I  '11  swear  to  them  if  necessary.  They 
floated  away,  swimming  down  the  stream,  and  I  am 
a  much  mistaken  man  if  ever  ye  see  them  any 
more." 

The  pleasurable  anticipations  of  the  day  that  the 
sisters  had  entertained  were  completely  annihilated; 
but  it  would  have  been  well  for  them  if  the  conse- 
quences of  their  avarice  and  gluttony  had  ended 
with  that  hour.  Never  more  did  the  sturgeon  make 
their  appearance,  and  the  part  of  the  stream  which 
pertained  to  the  convent  thenceforth  ceased  to  pro- 
duce fish  of  any  kind  whatsoever. 

People  say  that  the  Eeformation  had  the  effect  of 
wooing  the  finny  tribe  back  to  their  old  haunts.  At 
all  events,  whatever  may  have  been  the  cause,  it  is 
the  fact  that  there  is  not  at  present  a  less  plentiful 
supply  in  this  spot  than  there  is  in  any  other  part 
of  that  rich  river. 


SAINT  AKDEEW'S  NIGHT. 

It  is  commonly  believed  in  Germany  that  on  St. 
Andrew's  night,  St.  Thomas'  night,  and  Christmas 
and  New  Year's  nights,  a  girl  has  the  power  of 
inviting  and  seeing  her  future  lover.  A  table  is  to 
be  laid  for  two  persons,  taking  care,  however,  that 
there  are  no  forks  upon  it.  Whatever  the  lover 
leaves  behind  him  must  be  carefully  preserved,  for 
he  then  returns  to  her  who  has  it,  and  loves  her 
passionately.  The  article  must,  however,  be  kept 
carefully  concealed  from  his  sight,  for  he  would 
otherwise  remember  the  torture  of  superhuman 
power  exercised  over  him  which  he  that  night 
endured,  become  conscious  of  the  charms  employed, 
and  this  w^ould  lead  to  fatal  consequences. 

A  fair  maiden  in  Austria  once  sought  at  midnight, 
after  performing  the  necessary  ceremonies,  to  obtain 
a  sight  of  her  lover,  whereupon  a  shoemaker  appeared 
having  a  dagger  in  his  hand,  which  he  threw  at  her 
and  then  disappeared.  She  picked  up  the  dagger 
which  he  had  thrown  at  her  and  concealed  it  in  a 
trunk. 

183 


184  GERMAN  FOLKLORE   TALES. 

Not  long  afterwards  the  shoemaker  visited,  courted, 
and  married  her.  Some  years  after  her  marriage 
she  chanced  to  go  one  Sunday  about  the  hour  of 
vespers  to  the  trunk  in  search  of  something  that  she 
required  for  her  work  the  next  day.  As  she  opened 
the  trunk  her  husband  came  to  her,  and  would  insist 
on  looking  into  it.  She  kept  him  off,  until  at  last 
he  pushed  her  away,  and  there  saw  his  long-lost 
dagger.  He  immediately  seized  it,  and  demanded 
how  she  obtained  it,  because  he  had  lost  it  at  a  very 
particular  time.  In  her  fear  and  alarm  she  had  not 
the  power  to  invent  any  excuse,  so  declared  the 
truth,  that  it  was  the  same  dagger  he  had  left 
behind  him  the  night  w^hen  she  had  obliged  him  to 
appear  to  her.  Her  husband  hereupon  grew  enraged, 
and  said,  with  a  terrible  voice — 

"  'Twas  you,  then,  that  caused  me  that  night  of 
dreadful  misery  ? " 

With  that  he  thrust  the  dagger  into  her  heart. 


Printed  by  T.  and  A.  Constable,  Printers  to  Her  Majesty, 
at  tie  Edinburgh  University  Press. 


FOLK-LORE 


AND 


LEGENDS 

ORIENTAL 


r}^ 


J.    B.    LIPPINCOTT   COMPANY 

PHILADELPHIA 

1892 


PEEFATOHY  NOTE 

The  East  is  rich  in  Folklore,  and  the  lorist  is 
not  troubled  to  discover  material,  but  to  select 
only  that  which  it  is  best  worth  his  while  to 
preserve.  The  conditions  under  which  the  people 
live  are  most  favourable  to  the  preservation 
of  the  ancient  legends,  and  the  cultivation  of 
the  powers  of  narration  fits  the  Oriental  to 
present  his  stories  in  a  more  polished  style  than 
is  usual  in  the  Western  countries.  The  reader 
of  these  tales  will  observe  many  points  of  simi- 
larity between  them  and  the  popular  fictions 
of  the  West — similarity  of  thought  and  incident 
— and  nothing,  perhaps,  speaks  more  eloquently 
the    universal    brotherhood   of    man    than    this 


VI  PREFATORY  NOTE. 

oneness  of  folk-fiction.  At  the  same  time,  the 
Tales  of  the  East  are  unique,  lighted  up  as  they 
are  by  a  gorgeous  extravagance  of  imagination 
which  never  fails  to  attract  and  delight. 

C.  J.  T. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

The  Cobbler  Astrologer,         ....  I 

The  Legend  of  the  Terrestrial  Paradise  of  Sheddad, 

the  Son  of  'A'D,  .  .  .  .21 

The  Tomb  of  Noosheerw^n,   .  .  .30 

Ameen  and  the  Ghool,  .  .  .  .37 

The  Relations  of  Ssidi  Kur,  .  ,  .47 

The  Adventures  of  the  Rich  Yoiith,  .         53 

The  Adventures  of  the  Beggar's  Son,  .         58 

The  Adventures  of  Massang,       .  .68 

The  Magician  with  the  Swine's  Head,    .  .         77 

The  History  of  Sunshine  and  his  Brother,  .         89 
The  Wonderful  Man  who  overcame  the  Chan,  .         96 

The  Bird-Man,  .  .  .  .  .101 

The  Painter  and  the  Wood-carver,  .  .106 

The  Stealing  of  the  Heart,  .  .  .110 

The  Man  and  his  Wife,  .  .  .115 

Of  the  Maiden  Ssuwarandari,    .  .  .119 

The  Two  Cats,  .  .  .  .  .127 


Vlll 


CONTENTS. 


Legend  of  Dhurrumuatb, 
The  Traveller's  Adventure,    . 
The  Seven  Stages  of  Roostem.. 
The  Man  who  never  Laughed, 
The  Fox  and  the  Wolf, 
The  Shepherd  and  the  Jogie, 
The  Perfidious  Vizier, 


PAGE 

132 

135 

141 

151 

• 

1G2 

1S4 

. 

ISO 

THE  COBBLER  ASTEOLOGER 

In  the  great  city  of  Isfahan  lived  Ahmed  the  ob- 
bler,  an  honest  and  industrious  man,  whose  wish 
was  to  pass  through  life  quietly;  and  he  might 
have  done  so,  had  he  not  married  a  handsome  wife, 
who,  although  she  had  condescended  to  accept  of 
him  as  a  husband,  was  far  from  being  contented 
with  his  humble  sphere  of  life. 

Sittara,  such  was  the  name  of  Ahmed's  wife, 
was  ever  forming  foolish  schemes  of  riches  and 
grandeur;  and  though  Ahmed  never  encouraged 
them,  he  was  too  fond  a  husband  to  quarrel  with 
what  gave  her  pleasure.  An  incredulous  smile 
or  a  shake  of  the  head  was  his  only  answer  to  her 
often-told  day-dreams ;  and  she  continued  to  per- 
suade herself  that  she  was  certainly  destined  to 
great  fortune. 

It  happened  one  evening,  while  in  this  temper  of 
mind,  that  she  went  to  the  Hemmam,  where  she 
saw  a  lady  retiring  dressed  in  a  magnificent  robe^ 
covered  with  jewels,  and  surrounded  by  slaves. 
This  was   the   very   condition    Sittara    had  always 

Oriental.  . 

A 


2  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

longed  for,  and  she  eagerly  inquired  the  name  of 
the  happy  person  who  had  so  many  attendants  and 
such  fine  jewels.  She  learned  it  was  the  wife  of 
the  chief  astrologer  to  the  king.  With  this  informa- 
tion she  returned  home.  Her  husband  met  her  at 
the  door,  but  was  received  with  a  frown,  nor  could 
all  his  caresses  obtain  a  smile  or  a  word ;  for  several 
hours  she  continued  silent,  and  in  apparent  misery. 
At  length  she  said — 

"  Cease  your  caresses,  unless  you  are  ready  to  give 
me  a  proof  that  you  do  really  and  sincerely  love  me." 

"What  proof  of  love,"  exclaimed  poor  Ahmed, 
"  can  you  desire  which  I  will  not  give  ] " 

"  Give  over  cobbling ;  it  is  a  vile,  low  trade,  and 
never  yields  more  than  ten  or  twelve  dinars  a  day. 
Turn  astrologer !  your  fortune  will  be  made,  and  I 
shall  have  all  I  wish,  and  be  happy." 

"Astrologer  ! "  cried  Ahmed, — " astrologer !  Have 
you  forgotten  who  I  am — a  cobbler,  without  any 
learning — that  you  want  me  to  engage  in  a  pro- 
fession which  requires  so  much  skill  and  know- 
ledge?" 

"  I  neither  think  nor  care  about  your  qualifica- 
tions," said  the  enraged  wife;  "  all  I  know  is,  that 
if  you  do  not  turn  astrologer  immediately  I  will  be 
divorced  from  you  to-morrow." 

The  cobbler  remonstrated,  but  in  vain.  The 
figure  of  the  astrologer's  wife,  with  her  jewels  and 
her  slaves,  had  taken  complete  possession  of  Sittara's 


THE   COBBLER   ASTROLOGER.  3 

imagination.  All  night  it  haunted  her ;  she  dreamt 
of  nothing  else,  and  on  awaking  declared  she  would 
leave  the  house  if  her  husband  did  not  comply  with 
her  wishes.  What  could  poor  Ahmed  do  1  He  was 
no  astrologer,  but  he  was  dotingly  fond  of  his  wife, 
and  he  could  not  bear  the  idea  of  losing  her.  He 
promised  to  obey,  and,  having  sold  his  little  stock, 
bought  an  astrolabe,  an  astronomical  almanac,  and 
a  table  of  the  twelve  signs  of  the  zodiac.  Furnished 
with  these  he  went  to  the  market-place,  crying,  "  I 
am  an  astrologer !  I  know  the  sun,  and  the  moon, 
and  the  stars,  and  the  twelve  signs  of  the  zodiac ;  I 
can  calculate  nativities;  I  can  foretell  everything 
that  is  to  happen  ! " 

No  man  was  better  known  than  Ahmed  the 
cobbler.  A  crowd  soon  gathered  round  him.  "What ! 
friend  Ahmed,"  said  one,  "have  you  worked  till 
your  head  is  turned  1  "  "  Are  you  tired  of  looking 
down  at  your  last,"  cried  another,  "  that  you  are 
now  looking  up  at  the  planets?"  These  and  a 
thousand  other  jokes  assailed  the  ears  of  the  poor 
cobbler,  who,  notwithstanding,  continued  to  exclaim 
that  he  was  an  astrologer,  having  resolved  on  doing 
what  he  could  to  please  his  beautiful  wife. 

It  so  happened  that  the  king's  jeweller  was  pass- 
ing by.  He  was  in  great  distress,  having  lost  the 
richest  ruby  belonging  to  the  crown.  Every  search 
had  been  made  to  recover  this  inestimable  jewel, 
but  to   no  purpose;  and  as  the  jeweller  knew  he 


4  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

could  no  longer  conceal  its  loss  from  the  king,  he 
looked  forward  to  death  as  inevitable.  In  this 
hopeless  state,  while  wandering  about  the  town,  he 
reached  the  crowd  around  Ahmed  and  asked  what 
was  the  matter.  "Don't  jon  know  Ahmed  the 
cobbler  ^ "  said  one  of  the  bystanders,  laughing ; 
"  he  has  been  inspired,  and  is  become  an  astrologer." 

A  drowning  man  will  catch  at  a  broken  reed  : 
the  jeweller  no  sooner  heard  the  sound  of  the  word 
astrologer,  than  he  went  up  to  Ahmed,  told  him 
what  had  happened,  and  said,  "  If  you  understand 
your  art,  you  must  be  able  to  discover  the  king's 
ruby.  Do  so,  and  I  will  give  you  two  hundred 
pieces  of  gold.  But  if  you  do  not  succeed  within 
six  hours,  I  will  use  all  my  influence  at  court  to 
have  you  put  to  death  as  an  impostor." 

Poor  Ahmed  was  thunderstruck.  He  stood  long 
without  being  able  to  move  or  speak,  reflecting  on 
his  misfortunes,  and  grieving,  above  all,  that  his 
wife,  whom  he  so  loved,  had,  by  her  envy  and 
selfishness,  brought  him  to  such  a  fearful  alterna- 
tive. Full  of  these  sad  thoughts,  he  exclaimed 
aloud,  "  0  woman,  woman  !  thou  art  more  baneful 
to  the  happiness  of  man  than  the  poisonous  dragon 
of  the  desert !  " 

The  lost  ruby  had  been  secreted  by  the  jeweller's 
wife,  who,  disquieted  by  those  alarms  which  ever 
attend  guilt,  sent  one  of  her  female  slaves  to  watch 
her   husband.      This   slave,   on    seeing   her  master 


THE   COBBLER  ASTROLOGER.  5 

speak  to  the  astrologer,  drew  near ;  and  when  she 
heard  Ahmed,  after  some  moments  of  apparent 
abstraction,  compare  a  woman  to  a  poisonous 
dragon,  she  was  satisfied  that  he  must  know  every- 
thing. She  ran  to  her  mistress,  and,  breathless  with 
fear,  cried,  "  You  are  discovered,  my  dear  mistress, 
you  are  discovered  by  a  vile  astrologer.  Before  six 
hours  are  past  the  whole  story  will  be  known,  and 
you  will  become  infamous,  if  you  are  even  so  fortu- 
nate as  to  escape  with  life,  unless  you  can  find  some 
way  of  prevailing  on  him  to  be  merciful."  She  then 
related  what  she  had  seen  and  heard  ;  and  Ahmed's 
exclamation  carried  as  complete  conviction  to  the 
mind  of  the  terrified  mistress  as  it  had  done  to  that 
of  her  slave. 

The  jeweller's  wife,  hastily  throwing  on  her  veil, 
went  in  search  of  the  dreaded  astrologer.  When 
she  found  him,  she  threw  herself  at  his  feet,  crying, 
"  Spare  my  honour  and  my  life,  and  I  will  confess 
everything !  " 

"  What  can  you  have  to  confess  to  me  1 "  exclaimed 
Ahmed  in  amazement. 

"  Oh,  nothing !  nothing  with  which  you  are  not 
already  acquainted.  You  know  too  well  that  I  stole 
the  ruby  from  the  king's  crown.  I  did  so  to  punish 
my  husband,  who  uses  me  most  cruelly  ;  and  I 
thought  by  this  means  to  obtain  riches  for  myself, 
and  to  have  him  put  to  death.  But  you,  most 
wonderful  man,  from  whom  nothing  is  hidden,  have 


6  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

discovered  and  defeated  my  wicked  plan.  I  beg 
only  for  mercy,  and  will  do  whatever  you  command 
me." 

An  angel  from  heaven  could  not  have  brought 
more  consolation  to  Ahmed  than  did  the  jeweller's 
wife.  He  assumed  all  the  dignified  solemnity  that 
became  his  new  character,  and  said,  "  Woman !  I 
know  all  thou  hast  done,  and  it  is  fortunate  for  thee 
that  thou  hast  come  to  confess  thy  sin  and  beg  for 
mercy  before  it  was  too  late.  Return  to  thy  house, 
put  the  ruby  under  the  pillow  of  the  couch  on 
which  thy  husband  sleeps;  let  it  be  laid  on  the 
side  furthest  from  the  door ;  and  be  satisfied  thy 
guilt  shall  never  be  even  suspected." 

The  jeweller's  wife  returned  home,  and  did  as  she 
was  desired.  In  an  hour  Ahmed  followed  her,  and 
told  the  jeweller  he  had  made  his  calculations,  and 
found  by  the  aspect  of  the  sun  and  moon,  and  by 
the  configuration  of  the  stars,  that  the  ruby  was  at 
that  moment  lying  under  the  pillow  of  his  couch, 
on  the  side  furthest  from  the  door.  The  jeweller 
thought  Ahmed  must  be  crazy;  but  as  a  ray  of 
hope  is  like  a  ray  from  heaven  to  the  wretched,  he 
ran  to  his  couch,  and  there,  to  his  joy  and  wonder, 
found  the  ruby  in  the  very  place  described.  He 
came  back  to  Ahmed,  embraced  him,  called  him  his 
dearest  friend  and  the  preserver  of  his  life,  and  gave 
him  the  two  hundred  pieces  of  gold,  declaring  that 
he  was  the  first  astrologer  of  the  age. 


THE   COBBLER  ASTEOLOGER.  7 

These  praises  conveyed  no  joy  to  the  poor  cobbler, 
who  returned  home  more  thankful  to  God  for  his 
preservation  than  elated  by  his  good  fortune.  The 
moment  he  entered  the  door  his  wife  ran  up  to  him 
and  exclaimed,  "  Well,  my  dear  astrologer !  what 
success?" 

"  There  ! "  said  Ahmed,  very  gravely, — "  there  are 
two  hundred  pieces  of  gold.  I  hope  you  will  be 
satisfied  now,  and  not  ask  me  again  to  hazard  my 
life,  as  I  have  done  this  morning."  He  then  related 
all  that  had  passed.  But  the  recital  made  a  very 
different  impression  on  the  lady  from  what  these 
occurrences  had  made  on  Ahmed.  Sitt^ra  saw 
nothing  but  the  gold,  which  would  enable  her  to 
vie  with  the  chief  astrologer's  wife  at  the  Hemmam. 
"  Courage  !"  she  said,  "courage  !  my  dearest  husband. 
This  is  only  your  first  labour  in  your  new  and  noble 
profession.  Go  on  and  prosper,  and  we  shall  be- 
come rich  and  happy." 

In  vain  Ahmed  remonstrated  and  represented  the 
danger ;  she  burst  into  tears,  and  accused  him  of  not 
loving  her,  ending  with  her  usual  threat  of  insisting 
upon  a  divorce. 

Ahmed's  heart  melted,  and  he  agreed  to  make 
another  trial.  Accordingly,  next  morning  he  sallied 
forth  with  his  astrolabe,  his  twelve  signs  of  the 
zodiac,  and  his  almanac,  exclaiming,  as  before,  "  I 
am  an  astrologer  !  I  know  the  sun,  and  the  moon, 
and  the  stars,  and  the  twelve  si^ns  of  the  zodiac :  I 


8  OKIENTAL  FOLKLOKE   TALES. 

can  calculate  nativities ;  I  can  foretell  everything 
that  is  to  happen  ! "  A  crowd  again  gathered  round 
him,  but  it  was  now  with  wonder,  and  not  ridicule ; 
for  the  story  of  the  ruby  had  gone  abroad,  and  the 
voice  of  fame  had  converted  the  poor  cobbler  Ahmed 
into  the  ablest  and  most  learned  astrologer  that  was 
ever  seen  at  Isfahan. 

While  everybody  was  gazing  at  him,  a  lady  passed 
by  veiled.  She  was  the  wife  of  one  of  the  richest 
merchants  in  the  city,  and  had  just  been  at  the 
Hemmam,  where  she  had  lost  a  A^aluable  necklace 
and  earrings.  She  was  now  returning  home  in  great 
alarm  lest  her  husband  should  suspect  her  of  having 
given  her  jewels  to  a  lover.  Seeing  the  crowd 
around  Ahmed,  she  asked  the  reason  of  their  assem- 
bling, and  was  informed  of  the  whole  story  of  the 
famous  astrologer  :  how  he  had  been  a  cobbler,  was 
inspired  with  supernatural  knowledge,  and  could, 
with  the  help  of  his  astrolabe,  his  twelve  signs  of 
the  zodiac,  and  his  almanac,  discover  all  that  ever 
did  or  ever  would  happen  in  the  world.  The  story 
of  the  jeweller  and  the  king's  ruby  was  then  told 
her,  accompanied  by  a  thousand  wonderful  circum- 
stances which  had  never  occurred.  The  lady,  quite 
satisfied  of  his  skill,  went  up  to  Ahmed  and  men- 
tioned her  loss,  saying  :  "  A  man  of  your  knowledge 
and  penetration  will  easily  discover  my  jewels ;  find 
them,  and  I  will  give  you  fifty  pieces  of  gold." 

The  poor  cobbler  was  quite  confounded,  and  looked 


THE    COBBLER   ASTROLOGER.  9 

down^  thinking  only  how  to  escape  without  a  public 
exposure  of  his  ignorance.  The  lady,  in  pressing 
through  the  crowd,  had  torn  the  lower  part  of  her 
veil.  Ahmed's  downcast  eyes  noticed  this;  and 
wishing  to  inform  her  of  it  in  a  delicate  manner, 
before  it  was  observed  by  others,  he  whispered  to 
her,  "  Lady,  look  down  at  the  rent."  The  lady's  head 
was  full  of  her  loss,  and  she  was  at  that  moment 
endeavouring  to  recollect  how  it  could  have  occurred. 
Ahmed's  speech  brought  it  at  once  to  her  mind,  and 
she  exclaimed  in  delighted  surprise :  "  Stay  here  a 
few  moments,  thou  great  astrologer.  I  will  return 
immediately  with  the  reward  thou  so  well  deservest." 
Saying  this,  she  left  him,  and  soon  returned,  carry- 
ing in  one  hand  the  necklace  and  earrings,  and  in 
the  other  a  purse  with  the  fifty  pieces  of  gold. 
"  There  is  gold  for  thee,"  she  said,  "  thou  wonderful 
man,  to  whom  all  the  secrets  of  Nature  are  revealed ! 
I  had  quite  forgotten  where  I  laid  the  jewels,  and 
without  thee  should  never  have  found  them.  But 
when  thou  desiredst  me  to  look  at  the  rent  below, 
I  instantly  recollected  the  rent  near  the  bottom  of 
the  wall  in  the  bathroom,  where,  before  undressing,  I 
had  hid  them.  I  can  now  go  home  in  peace  and  com- 
fort; and  it  is  all  owing  to  thee,  thou  wisest  of  men  !" 
After  these  words  she  walked  away,  and  Ahmed 
returned  to  his  home,  thankful  to  Providence  for 
his  preservation,  and  fully  resolved  never  again  to 
tempt  it.     His  handsome  wife,  however,  could  not 


10  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE   TALES. 

yet  rival  tlie  chief  astrologer's  lady  in  her  appear- 
ance at  the  Hemmam,  so  she  renewed  her  entreaties 
and  threats,  to  make  her  fond  husband  continue  his 
career  as  an  astrologer. 

About  this  time  it  happened  that  the  king's  trea- 
sury was  robbed  of  forty  chests  of  gold  and  jewels, 
forming  the  greater  part  of  the  wealth  of  the  king- 
dom. The  high  treasurer  and  other  officers  of  state 
used  all  diligence  to  find  the  thieves,  but  in  vain. 
The  king  sent  for  his  astrologer,  and  declared  that  if 
the  robbers  were  not  detected  by  a  stated  time,  he, 
as  well  as  the  principal  ministers,  should  be  put  to 
death.  Only  one  day  of  the  short  period  given  them 
remained.  All  their  search  had  proved  fruitless,  and 
the  chief  astrologer,  who  had  made  his  calculations 
and  exhausted  his  art  to  no  purpose,  had  quite 
resigned  himself  to  his  fate,  when  one  of  his  friends 
advised  him  to  send  for  the  wonderful  cobbler,  who 
had  become  so  famous  for  his  extraordinary  dis- 
coveries. Two  slaves  were  immediately  despatched 
for  Ahmed,  whom  they  commanded  to  go  with  them 
to  their  master.  "  You  see  the  effects  of  your  ambi- 
tion," said  the  poor  cobbler  to  his  wife ;  "  I  am 
going  to  my  death.  The  king's  astrologer  has  heard 
of  my  presumption,  and  is  determined  to  have  me 
executed  as  an  impostor." 

On  entering  the  palace  of  the  chief  astrologer,  he 
was  surprised  to  see  that  dignified  person  come  for- 
ward to  receive  him,  and  lead  him  to  the  seat  of 


THE   COBBLER  ASTROLOGER.  11 

honour,  and  not  less  so  to  hear  himself  thus  ad- 
dressed :  "  The  ways  of  Heaven,  most  learned  and 
excellent  Ahmed,  are  unsearchable.  The  high  are 
often  cast  down,  and  the  low  are  lifted  up.  The 
whole  world  depends  upon  fate  and  fortune.  It  is 
my  turn  now  to  be  depressed  by  fate ;  it  is  thine  to 
be  exalted  by  fortune." 

His  speech  was  here  interrupted  by  a  messenger 
from  the  king,  who,  having  heard  of  the  cobbler's 
fame,  desired  his  attendance.  Poor  Ahmed  now 
concluded  that  it  was  all  over  with  him,  and  followed 
the  king's  messenger,  praying  to  God  that  he  would 
deliver  him  from  this  peril.  When  he  came  into 
the  king's  presence,  he  bent  his  body  to  the  ground, 
and  wished  his  majesty  long  life  and  prosperity. 
"  Tell  me,  Ahmed,"  said  the  king,  "  who  has  stolen 
my  treasured' 

"  It  was  not  one  man,"  answered  Ahmed,  after 
some  consideration ;  "  there  were  forty  thieves  con- 
cerned in  the  robber3^" 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  king ;  "  but  who  were 
they  1  and  what  have  they  done  with  my  gold  and 
jewels  1 " 

"  These  questions,"  said  Ahmed,  "  I  cannot  now 
answer ;  but  I  hope  to  satisfy  your  Majesty,  if  you 
will  grant  me  forty  days  to  make  my  calculations." 

"I  grant  you  forty  days,"  said  the  king;  "but 
when  they  are  past,  if  my  treasure  is  not  found, 
your  life  shall  pay  the  forfeit." 


12  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE  TALES. 

Ahmed  returned  to  his  house  well  pleased ;  for 
he  resolved  to  take  advantage  of  the  time  allowed 
him  to  fly  from  a  city  where  his  fame  was  likely  to 
be  his  ruin. 

"Well,  Ahmed,"  said  his  wife,  as  he  entered, 
"  what  news  at  Court  ?  " 

"  No  news  at  all,"  said  he,  "  except  that  I  am  to 
be  put  to  death  at  the  end  of  forty  days,  unless  I 
find  forty  chests  of  gold  and  jewels  which  have 
been  stolen  from  the  royal  treasury." 

"  But  you  will  discover  the  thieves." 

"  How  1     By  what  means  am  I  to  find  them "?  " 

"  By  the  same  art  which  discovered  the  ruby  and 
the  lady's  necklace." 

"  The  same  art !  "  replied  Ahmed.  "  Foolish 
woman  !  thou  knowest  that  I  have  no  art,  and  that 
I  have  only  pretended  to  it  for  the  sake  of  pleasing 
thee.  But  I  have  had  sufficient  skill  to  gain  forty 
days,  during  which  time  we  may  easily  escape  to 
some  other  city;  and  with  the  money  I  now 
possess,  and  the  aid  of  my  former  occupation,  we 
may  still  obtain  an  honest  livelihood." 

"  An  honest  livelihood !  "  repeated  his  lady,  with 
scorn.  "Will  thy  cobbling,  thou  mean,  spiritless 
wretch,  ever  enable  me  to  go  to  the  Hemmam  like 
the  wife  of  the  chief  astrologer "?  Hear  me,  Ahmed  ! 
Think  only  of  discovering  the  king's  treasure.  Thou 
hast  just  as  good  a  chance  of  doing  so  as  thou  hadst 
of  finding  the  ruby,  and  the  necklace  and  earrings. 


THE   COBBLER  ASTROLOGER.  13 

At  all  events,  I  am  determined  thou  slialt  not 
escape ;  and  shouldst  thou  attempt  to  run  away,  I 
will  inform  the  king's  officers,  and  have  thee  taken 
up  and  put  to  death,  even  before  the  forty  days  are 
expired.  Thou  knowest  me  too  well,  Ahmed,  to 
doubt  my  keeping  my  word.  So  take  courage, 
and  endeavour  to  make  thy  fortune,  and  to  place 
me  in  that  rank  of  life  to  which  my  beauty  entitles 
me." 

The  poor  cobbler  was  dismayed  at  this  speech ; 
but  knowing  there  Avas  no  hope  of  changing  his 
wife's  resolution,  he  resigned  himself  to  his  fate. 
"  Well,"  said  he,  "  your  will  shall  be  obeyed.  All  I 
desire  is  to  pass  the  few  remaining  days  of  my  life 
as  comfortably  as  I  can.  You  know  I  am  no  scholar, 
and  have  little  skill  in  reckoning ;  so  there  are  forty 
dates :  give  me  one  of  them  every  night  after  I  have 
said  my  prayers,  that  I  may  put  them  in  a  jar,  and, 
by  counting  them  may  always  see  how  many  of  the 
few  days  I  have  to  live  are  gone." 

The  lady,  pleased  at  carrying  her  point,  took  the 
dates,  and  promised  to  be  punctual  in  doing  what 
her  husband  desired. 

Meanwhile  the  thieves  who  had  stolen  the  king's 
treasure,  having  been  kept  from  leaving  the  city  by 
fear  of  detection  and  pursuit,  had  received  accurate 
information  of  every  measure  taken  to  discover 
them.  One  of  them  was  among  the  crowd  before 
the  palace  on  the  day  the  king  sent  for  Ahmed; 


14  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

and  hearing  that  the  cobbler  had  immediately 
declared  their  exact  number,  he  ran  in  a  fright  to 
his  comrades,  and  exclaimed,  "We  are  all  found 
out  1  Ahmed,  the  new  astrologer,  has  told  the  king 
that  there  are  forty  of  us." 

"There  needed  no  astrologer  to  tell  that,"  said 
the  captain  of  the  gang.  "This  Ahmed,  with  all 
his  simple  good-nature,  is  a  shrewd  fellow.  Forty 
chests  having  been  stolen,  he  naturally  guessed  that 
there  must  be  forty  thieves,  and  he  has  made  a 
good  hit,  that  is  all ;  still  it  is  prudent  to  watch 
him,  for  he  certainly  has  made  some  strange  dis- 
coveries. One  of  us  must  go  to-night,  after  dark,  to 
the  terrace  of  this  cobbler's  house,  and  listen  to  his 
conversation  with  his  handsome  wife ;  for  he  is  said 
to  be  very  fond  of  her,  and  will,  no  doubt,  tell  her 
what  success  he  has  had  in  his  endeavours  to  detect 
us." 

Everybody  approved  of  this  scheme ;  and  soon 
after  nightfall  one  of  the  thieves  repaired  to  the 
terrace.  He  arrived  there  just  as  the  cobbler  had 
finished  his  evening  prayers,  and  his  wife  was  giving 
him  the  first  date.  "  Ah  ! "  said  Ahmed,  as  he  took 
it,  "  there  is  one  of  the  forty." 

The  thief,  hearing  these  words,  hastened  in  con- 
sternation to  the  gang,  and  told  them  that  the 
moment  he  took  his  post  he  had  been  perceived  by 
the  supernatural  knowledge  of  Ahmed,  who  im- 
mediately told  his  wife  that  one  of  them  was  there. 


THE   COBBLER  ASTROLOGEK.  15 

The  spy's  tale  was  not  believed  by  his  hardened 
companions ;  something  was  imputed  to  his  fears ; 
he  might  have  been  mistaken; — in  short,  it  was 
determined  to  send  two  men  the  next  night  at  the 
same  hour.  They  reached  the  house  just  as  Ahmed, 
having  finished  his  prayers,  had  received  the  second 
date,  and  heard  him  exclaim,  "  My  dear  wife,  to-night 
there  are  two  of  them  ! " 

The  astonished  thieves  fled,  and  told  their  still 
incredulous  comrades  what  they  had  heard.  Three 
men  were  consequently  sent  the  third  night,  four 
the  fourth,  and  so  on.  Being  afraid  of  venturing 
during  the  day,  they  always  came  as  evening  closed 
in,  and  just  as  Ahmed  was  receiving  his  date,  hence 
they  all  in  turn  heard  him  say  that  which  convinced 
them  he  was  aware  of  their  presence.  On  the  last 
night  they  all  went,  and  Ahmed  exclaimed  aloud, 
"  The  number  is  complete !  To-night  the  whole 
forty  are  here  ! " 

All  doubts  were  now  removed.  It  was  impossible 
that  Ahmed  should  have  discovered  them  by  any 
natural  means.  How  could  he  ascertain  their  exact 
number?  and  night  after  night,  without  ever  once 
being  mistaken  1  He  must  have  learnt  it  by  his 
skill  in  astrology.  Even  the  captain  now  yielded, 
in  spite  of  his  incredulity,  and  declared  his  opinion 
that  it  was  hopeless  to  elude  a  man  thus  gifted ;  he 
therefore  advised  that  they  should  make  a  friend 
of  the  cobbler,    by  confessing    everything  to  him, 


16  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

and  bribing  liim  to  secrecy  by  a  share  of  the 
booty. 

His  advice  was  approved  of,  and  an  hour  before 
dawn  they  knocked  at  Ahmed's  door.  The  poor 
man  jumped  out  of  bed,  and  supposing  the  soldiers 
were  come  to  lead  him  to  execution,  cried  out, 
"  Have  patience !  I  know  what  you  are  come  for. 
It  is  a  very  unjust  and  wicked  deed." 

"  Most  wonderful  man  ! "  said  the  captain,  as  the 
door  was  opened,  "  we  are  fully  convinced  that  thou 
knowest  why  we  are  come,  nor  do  we  mean  to 
justify  the  action  of  which  thou  speakest.  Here  are 
two  thousand  pieces  of  gold,  which  we  will  give 
thee,  provided  thou  wilt  swear  to  say  nothing  more 
about  the  matter." 

'■'  Say  nothing  about  it !  "  said  Ahmed.  "  Do  you 
think  it  possible  I  can  suffer  such  gross  wrong  and 
injustice  without  complaining,  and  making  it  known 
to  all  the  world  1 " 

"  Have  mercy  upon  us  ! "  exclaimed  the  thieves, 
falling  on  their  knees ;  "  only  spare  our  lives,  and 
we  will  restore  the  royal  treasure." 

The  cobbler  started,  rubbed  his  eyes  to  see  if  he 
were  asleep  or  awake ;  and  being  satisfied  that  he 
was  awake,  and  that  the  men  before  him  were  really 
the  thieves,  he  assumed  a  solemn  tone,  and  said  : 
"  Guilty  men !  ye  are  persuaded  that  ye  cannot 
escape  from  my  penetration,  which  reaches  unto  the 
sun  and  moon,  and  knows  the  position  and  aspect  of 


THE   COBBLER   ASTROLOGER.  17 

every  star  in  the  heavens.  Your  timely  repentance 
has  saved  you.  But  ye  must  immediately  restore 
all  that  ye  have  stolen.  Go  straightway,  and  carry 
the  forty  chests  exactly  as  ye  found  them,  and  bury 
them  a  foot  deep  under  the  southern  wall  of  the  old 
ruined  Hemmam,  beyond  the  king's  palace.  If  ye 
do  this  punctually,  your  lives  are  spared ;  but  if  ye 
fail  in  the  slightest  degree,  destruction  will  fall  upon 
you  and  your  families." 

The  thieves  promised  obedience  to  his  commands 
and  departed.  Ahmed  then  fell  on  his  knees,  and 
returned  thanks  to  God  for  this  signal  mark  of  his 
favour.  About  two  hours  after  the  royal  guards 
came,  and  desired  Ahmed  to  follow  them.  He  said 
he  would  attend  them  as  soon  as  he  had  taken  leave 
of  his  wife,  to  whom  he  determined  not  to  impart 
what  had  occurred  until  he  saw  the  result.  He  bade 
her  farewell  very  affectionately ;  she  supported  her- 
self with  great  fortitude  on  this  trying  occasion, 
exhorting  her  husband  to  be  of  good  cheer,  and  said 
a  few  words  about  the  goodness  of  Providence.  But 
the  fact  was,  Sittara  fancied  that  if  God  took  the 
worthy  cobbler  to  himself,  her  beauty  might  attract 
some  rich  lover,  who  would  enable  her  to  go  to  the 
Hemmam  with  as  much  splendour  as  the  astrologer's 
lady,  whose  image,  adorned  with  jewels  and  fine 
clothes,  and  surrounded  by  slaves,  still  haunted  her 
imagination. 

The  decrees  of  Heaven  are  just :  a  reward  suited 

Oriental.  -p. 


18  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

to  their  merits  awaited  Ahmed  and  his  wife.  The 
good  man  stood  with  a  cheerful  countenance  before 
the  king,  who  was  impatient  for  his  arrival,  and 
immediately  said,  "  Ahmed,  thy  looks  are  promising; 
hast  thou  discovered  my  treasure  1  " 

"Does  your  Majesty  require  the  thieves  or  the 
treasure?  The  stars  will  only  grant  one  or  the 
other,"  said  Ahmed,  looking  at  his  table  of  astrolo- 
gical calculations.  "  Your  Majesty  must  make 
your  choice.  I  can  deliver  up  either,  but  not 
both." 

"I  should  be  sorry  not  to  punish  the  thieves," 
answered  the  king ;  "  but  if  it  must  be  so,  I  choose 
the  treasure." 

"And  you  give  the  thieves  a  full  and  free 
pardon  1 " 

"  I  do,  provided  I  find  my  treasure  untouched." 

"  Then,"  said  Ahmed,  *'  if  your  majesty  will 
follow    me,    the    treasure    shall    be    restored    to 

you." 

The  king  and  all  his  nobles  followed  the  cobbler 
to  the  ruins  of  the  old  Hemmam.  There,  casting  his 
eyes  towards  heaven,  Ahmed  muttered  some  sounds, 
which  were  supposed  by  the  spectators  to  be  magical 
conjurations,  but  which  were  in  reality  the  prayers 
and  thanksgivings  of  a  sincere  and  pious  heart  to 
God  for  his  wonderful  deliverance.  When  his 
prayer  was  finished,  he  pointed  to  the  southern  wall, 
and  requested    that   his  majesty  would   order  his 


THE   COBBLER   ASTROLOGER.  19 

attendants  to  dig  there.  The  work  was  hardly 
begun,  when  the  whole  forty  chests  were  found  in 
the  same  state  as  when  stolen,  with  the  treasurer's 
seal  upon  them  still  unbroken. 

The  king's  joy  knew  no  bounds;  he  embraced 
Ahmed,  and  immediately  appointed  him  his  chief 
astrologer,  assigned  to  him  an  apartment  in  the 
palace,  and  declared  that  he  should  marry  his  only 
daughter,  as  it  was  his  duty  to  promote  the  man 
whom  God  had  so  singularly  favoured,  and  had 
made  instrumental  in  restoring  the  treasures  of  his 
kingdom.  The  young  princess,  who  was  more 
beautiful  than  the  moon,  was  not  dissatisfied  with 
her  father's  choice ;  for  her  mind  was  stored  with 
religion  and  virtue,  and  she  had  learnt  to  value 
beyond  all  earthly  qualities  that  piety  and  learning 
which  she  believed  Ahmed  to  possess.  The  royal 
will  was  carried  into  execution  as  soon  as  formed. 
The  wheel  of  fortune  had  taken  a  complete  turn. 
The  morning  had  found  Ahmed  in  a  wretched  hovel, 
rising  from  a  sorry  bed,  in  the  expectation  of  losing 
his  life ;  in  the  evening  he  was  the  lord  of  a  rich 
palace,  and  married  to  the  only  daughter  of  a  power- 
ful king.  But  this  change  did  not  alter  his  charac- 
ter. As  he  had  been  meek  and  humble  in  adversity, 
he  was  modest  and  gentle  in  prosperity.  Conscious 
of  his  own  ignorance,  he  continued  to  ascribe  his 
good  fortune  solely  to  the  favour  of  Providence. 
He  became  daily  more  attached  to  the  beautiful  and 


20  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

virtuous  princess  whom  he  had  married;  and  he 
could  not  help  contrasting  her  character  with  that  of 
his  former  wife,  whom  he  had  ceased  to  love,  and  of 
whose  unreasonable  and  unfeeling  vanity  he  was  now 
fully  sensible. 


THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  TEEEESTEIAL 

PAEADISE  OF  SHED  D AD, 

THE  SON  OF  'A'D. 

It  is  related  that  'Abd  Allah,  the  son  of  Aboo 
Kildbeh,  went  forth  to  seek  a  camel  that  had  run 
away,  and  while  he  was  proceeding  over  the  deserts 
of  El-Yeman  and  the  district  of  Seba,  he  chanced 
to  arrive  at  a  vast  city  encompassed  by  enormous 
fortifications,  around  the  circuit  of  which  were 
pavilions  rising  high  into  the  sky.  So  when  he 
approached  it,  he  imagined  that  there  must  be  in- 
habitants within  it,  of  whom  he  might  inquire  for 
his  camel ;  and,  accordingly,  he  advanced,  but  on 
coming  to  it  he  found  that  it  was  desolate,  without 
any  one  to  cheer  its  solitude. 

"  I  alighted,"  says  he,  "  from  my  she-camel,  and 
tied  up  her  foot ;  and  then,  composing  my  mind, 
entered  the  city.  On  approaching  the  fortifications, 
I  found  that  they  had  two  enormous  gates,  the  lik 
of  which,  for  size  and  height,  have  never  been  seen 
elsewhere  in  the  world,  set  with  a  variety  of  jewels 
and  jacinths,  white  and  red,  and  yellow  and  green ; 


22  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

and  when  I  beheld  this,  I  was  struck  with  the 
utmost  wonder  at  it,  and  the  sight  astonished  me. 
I  entered  the  fortifications  in  a  state  of  terror  and 
with  a  wandering  mind,  and  saw  them  to  be  of  the 
same  large  extent  as  the  city,  and  to  comprise 
elevated  pavilions,  every  one  of  these  containing 
lofty  chambers,  and  all  of  them  constructed  of  gold 
and  silver,  and  adorned  with  rubies  and  chrysolites 
and  pearls  and  various-coloured  jewels.  The  fold- 
ing-doors of  these  pavilions  were  like  those  of  the 
fortifications  in  beauty,  and  the  floors  were  overlaid 
with  large  pearls,  and  with  balls  like  hazel-nuts, 
composed  of  musk  and  ambergris  and  saffron.  And 
when  I  came  into  the  midst  of  the  city,  I  saw  not 
in  it  a  created  being  of  the  sons  of  Adam ;  and  I 
almost  died  of  terror.  I  then  looked  down  from 
the  summits  of  the  lofty  chambers  and  pavilions, 
and  saw  rivers  running  beneath  them ;  and  in  the 
great  thoroughfare-streets  of  the  city  were  fruit- 
bearing  trees  and  tall  palm-trees.  And  the  construc- 
tion of  the  city  was  of  alternate  bricks  of  gold  and 
silver;  so  I  said  within  myself,  No  doubt  this  is  the 
paradise  promised  in  the  world  to  come. 

"  I  carried  away  of  the  jewels  which  were  as  its 
gravel,  and  the  musk  that  was  as  its  dust,  as  much 
as  I  could  bear,  and  returned  to  my  district,  where 
I  acquainted  the  people  with  the  occurrence.  And 
the  news  reached  Mo'awiyeh,  the  son  of  Aboo 
Sufydn  (who  was  then  Calii^h),  in  the  Hejdz ;  so  he 


THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  TERRESTRIAL  PARADISE.      23 

wrote  to  his  lieutenant  in  San'a  of  El- Yemen,  say- 
ing, 'Summon  that  man,  and  inquire  of  him  the 
truth  of  the  matter ! '  His  lieutenant  therefore 
caused  me  to  be  brought,  and  demanded  of  me  an 
account  of  my  adventure,  and  of  what  had  befallen 
me ;  and  I  informed  him  of  what  I  had  seen.  He 
then  sent  me  to  Mo'dwiyeh,  and  I  acquainted  him 
also  with  that  which  I  had  seen,  but  he  disbelieved 
it ;  so  I  produced  to  him  some  of  those  pearls  and 
the  little  balls  of  ambergris  and  musk  and  saffron. 
The  latter  retained  somewhat  of  their  sweet  scent ; 
but  the  pearls  had  become  yellow  and  discoloured. 

"  At  the  sight  of  these  Mo'awiyeh  wondered,  and 
he  sent  and  caused  Kaab  el-Ahbar  to  be  brousrht 
before  him,  and  said  to  him,  '  0  Kaab  el-Ahbar,  I 
have  called  thee  on  account  of  a  matter  of  which  I 
desire  to  know  the  truth,  and  I  hope  that  thou 
may  est  be  able  to  certify  me  of  it.'  '  And  what  is 
it,  0  Prince  of  the  Faithful  1 '  asked  Kaab  el-Ahbar. 
Mo'awiyeh  said,  '  Hast  thou  any  knowledge  of  the 
existence  of  a  city  constructed  of  gold  and  silver, 
the  pillars  whereof  are  of  chrysolite  and  ruby,  and 
the  gravel  of  which  is  of  pearls,  and  of  balls  like 
hazel-nuts,  composed  of  musk  and  ambergris  and 
saffron r  He  answered,  'Yes,  0  Prince  of  the 
Faithful!  It  is  Irem  Zat  -  el  - 'Emdd,  the  like  of 
which  hath  never  been  constructed  in  the  regions  of 
the  earth;  and  Sheddad,  the  son  of  'A'd  the  Greater, 
built  it.'     'Eelate  to  us,'   said  Mo'awiyeh,  'some- 


24  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

what  of  its  history.'     And  Kaab  el-Ahbdr  replied 
thus : — 

" '  'A'd  the  Greater  had  two  sons,  Shedeed  and 
Sheddad,  and  when  their  father  perished  they 
reigned  conjointly  over  the  countries  after  him,  and 
there  was  no  one  of  the  kings  of  the  earth  who  was 
not  subject  to  them.  And  Shedeed  the  son  of  'A'd 
died,  so  his  brother  Sheddad  ruled  alone  over  the 
earth  after  him.  He  was  fond  of  reading  the 
ancient  books ;  and  when  he  met  with  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  world  to  come,  and  of  paradise,  Avith  its 
pavilions  and  lofty  chambers,  and  its  trees  and 
fruits,  and  of  the  other  things  in  paradise,  his  heart 
enticed  him  to  construct  its  like  on  the  earth,  after 
this  manner  which  hath  been  above  mentioned.  He 
had  under  his  authority  a  hundred  thousand  kings, 
under  each  of  whom  were  a  hundred  thousand 
valiant  chieftains,  and  under  each  of  these  were  a 
hundred  thousand  soldiers.  And  he  summoned  them 
all  before  him,  and  said  to  them,  "  I  find  in  the 
ancient  books  and  histories  the  description  of  the 
paradise  that  is  in  the  other  world,  and  I  desire  to 
make  its  like  upon  the  earth.  Depart  ye  therefore 
to  the  most  pleasant  and  most  spacious  vacant  tract 
in  the  earth,  and  build  for  me  in  it  a  city  of  gold 
and  silver,  and  spread,  as  its  gravel,  chrysolites  and 
rubies  and  pearls,  and  as  the  supports  of  the  vaulted 
roofs  of  that  city  make  columns  of  chrysolite,  and 
fill  it  with  pavilions,  and  over  the  pavilions  con- 


THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  TERRESTRIAL  PARADISE.      25 

struct  lofty  chambers,  and  beneath  them  plant, 
in  the  by-streets  and  great-thoroughfare  streets, 
varieties  of  trees  bearing  different  kinds  of  ripe 
fruits,  and  make  rivers  to  run  beneath  them  in 
channels  of  gold  and  silver."  To  this  they  all  re- 
plied, "  How  can  we  accomplish  that  which  thou  hast 
described  to  us,  and  how  can  we  procure  the 
chrysolites  and  rubies  and  pearls  that  thou  hast 
mentioned  ?  "  But  he  said,  "  Know  ye  not  that  the 
kings  of  the  world  are  obedient  to  me,  and  under 
my  authority,  and  that  no  one  wdio  is  in  it  dis- 
obeyeth  my  command  1 "  They  answered,  "  Yes,  we 
know  that."  "  Depart  then,"  said  he,  "  to  the  mines 
of  chrysolite  and  ruby,  and  to  the  places  where 
pearls  are  found,  and  gold  and  silver,  and  take 
forth  and  collect  their  contents  from  the  earth,  and 
spare  no  exertions.  Take  also  for  me,  from  the 
hands  of  me,  such  of  those  things  as  ye  find,  and 
spare  none,  nor  let  any  escape  you ;  and  beware  of 
disobedience ! " 

" '  He  then  wrote  a  letter  to  each  of  the  kino-s  in 

o 

the  regions  of  the  earth,  commanding  them  to 
collect  all  the  articles  of  the  kinds  above  mentioned 
that  their  subjects  possessed,  and  to  repair  to  the 
mines  in  which  these  things  were  found,  and  extract 
the  precious  stones  that  they  contained,  even  from 
the  beds  of  the  seas.  And  they  collected  the  things 
that  he  required  in  the  space  of  twenty  years;  after 
which  he  sent  forth  the    geometricians  and  sages, 


26  ORIENTAL   FOLKLOEE   TALES. 

and  labourers  and  artificers,  from  all  the  countries 
and  regions,  and  they  dispersed  themselves  through 
the  deserts  and  wastes,  and  tracts  and  districts, 
until  they  came  to  a  desert  wherein  was  a  vast  open 
plain,  clear  from  hills  and  mountains,  and  in  it  were 
springs  gushing  forth,  and  rivers  running.  So  they 
said,  "  This  is  the  kind  of  place  which  the  king 
commanded  us  to  seek,  and  called  us  to  find."  They 
then  busied  themselves  in  building  the  city  accord- 
ing to  the  direction  of  the  King  Sheddad,  king  of 
the  whole  earth,  in  its  length  and  breadth;  and 
they  made  through  it  the  channels  for  the  rivers, 
and  laid  the  foundations  conformably  with  the  pre- 
scribed extent.  The  kings  of  the  various  districts 
of  the  earth  sent  thither  the  jewels  and  stones,  and 
large  and  small  pearls,  and  carnelian  and  pure  gold, 
upon  camels  over  the  deserts  and  wastes,  and  sent 
great  ships  with  them  over  the  seas  ;  and  a  quantity 
of  those  things,  such  as  cannot  be  described  nor 
calculated  nor  defined,  was  brought  to  the  work- 
men, who  laboured  in  the  construction  of  this  city 
three  hundred  years.  And  when  they  had  fi.nished 
it,  they  came  to  the  king  and  acquainted  him  with 
the  completion ;  and  he  said  to  them,  "  Depart,  and 
make  around  it  impregnable  fortifications  of  great 
height,  and  construct  around  the  circuit  of  the 
fortifications  a  thousand  pavilions,  each  with  a 
thousand  pillars  beneath  it,  in  order  that  there  may 
be  in  each  pavilion  a  vizier."     So  they  went  imme- 


THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  TERRESTRIAL  PARADISE.      27 

diately,  and  did  this  in  twenty  years ;  after  which 
they  presented  themselves  before  Shedddd,  and  in- 
formed him  of  the  accomplishment  of  his  desire. 

" '  He  therefore  ordered  his  viziers,  who  were  a 
thousand  in  number,  and  his  chief  officers,  and  such 
of  his  troops  and  others  as  he  confided  in,  to  make 
themselves  ready  for  departure,  and  to  prepare 
themselves  for  removal  to  Irem  Zat-el-'Emad,  in 
attendance  upon  the  king  of  the  world,  Sheddad,  the 
son  of  'A'd.  He  ordered  also  such  as  he  chose  of 
his  women  and  his  hareem,  as  his  female  slaves  and 
his  eunuchs,  to  fit  themselves  out.  And  they  passed 
twenty  years  in  equipping  themselves.  Then 
Sheddad  proceeded  with  his  troops,  rejoiced  at  the 
accomplishment  of  his  desire,  until  there  remained 
between  him  and  Irem  Zat-el-'Emad  one  day's 
journey,  when  God  sent  down  upon  him  and  upon 
the  obstinate  infidels  who  accompanied  him  a  loud 
cry  from  the  heaven  of  His  power,  and  it  destroyed 
them  all  by  the  vehemence  of  its  sound.  Neither 
Sheddad  nor  any  of  those  who  were  with  him 
arrived  at  the  city,  or  came  in  sight  of  it,  and  God 
obliterated  the  traces  of  the  road  that  led  to  it,  but 
the  city  remaineth  as  it  was  in  its  place  until  the 
hour  of  the  judgment !' 

"  At  this  narrative,  related  by  Kaab  el-Ahbar, 
Mo'awiyeh  wondered,  and  he  said  to  him,  ^  Can  any 
one  of  mankind  arrive  at  that  cityf  'Yes,'  an- 
swered Kaab  el-Ahbdr ;  *  a  man  of  the  companions 


28  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE  TALES. 

of  Mohammed  (upon  whom  be  blessing  and  peace !), 
in  appearance  like  this  man  who  is  sitting  here, 
without  any  doubt.'  Esh-Shaabee  also  saith,  '  It  is 
related,  on  the  authority  of  the  learned  men  of 
Hemyer,  in  El- Yemen,  that  when  Shed  dad  and  those 
who  were  with  him  were  destroyed  by  the  loud  cry, 
his  son  Sheddad  the  Less  reigned  after  him ;  for  his 
father,  Sheddad  the  Greater,  had  left  him  as  successor 
to  his  kingdom,  in  the  land  of  Hadramot  and  Seba, 
on  his  departure  with  the  troops  who  accompanied 
him  to  Irem  Zat-el-'Emad.  And  as  soon  as  the 
news  reached  him  of  the  death  of  his  father,  on  the 
way  before  his  arrival  at  the  city  of  Irem,  he  gave 
orders  to  carry  his  father's  body  from  those  desert 
tracts  to  Hadram6t,  and  to  excavate  the  sepulchre 
for  him  in  a  cavern.  And  when  they  had  done  this, 
he  placed  his  body  in  it,  upon  a  couch  of  gold,  and 
covered  the  corpse  with  seventy  robes,  interwoven 
with  gold  and  adorned  with  precious  jewels ;  and  he 
placed  at  his  head  a  tablet  of  gold,  whereon  were 
inscribed  these  verses  : — 

"  '  Be  admonislied,  0  thou  who  art  deceived  by  a  pro- 
longed life ! 

I  am  Sheddad,  the  son  of  'A'd,  the  lord  of  a  strong 
fortress, 

The  lord  of  power  and  might,  and  of  excessive  v^alour. 

The  inhabitants  of  the  earth  obeyed  me,  fearing  my 
severity  and  threats ; 

And  I  held  the  east  and  west  under  a  strong  dominion. 

And  a  preacher  of  the  true  religion  invited  us  to  the 
right  way  ; 


THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  TERRESTEIAL  PARADISE.   29 

But  we  opposed  him,  and  said,  Is  there  no  refuge  from 

it? 
And  a  loud  cry  assaulted  us  from  a  tract  of  the  distant 

horizon  ; 
Whereupon  we  fell  down  like  corn  in  the  midst  of  a 

plain  at  harvest  ; 
And  now,  beneath  the  earth,  we  await  the  threatened 

day.' 

"  Etli-Thaalibee  also  saith,  ' It  happened  that  two 
men  entered  this  cavern,  and  found  at  its  upper  end 
some  steps,  and  having  descended  these,  they  found 
an  excavation,  the  length  whereof  was  a  hundred 
cubits,  and  its  breadth  forty  cubits,  and  its  height  a 
hundred  cubits.  And  in  the  midst  of  this  excava- 
tion was  a,  couch  of  gold,  upon  which  was  a  man  of 
enormous  bulk,  occupying  its  whole  length  and 
breadth,  covered  with  ornaments  and  with  robes 
interwoven  with  gold  and  silver ;  and  at  his  head 
was  a  tablet  of  gold,  whereon  was  an  inscription. 
And  they  took  that  tablet,  and  carried  away  from 
the  place  as  much  as  they  could  of  bars  of  gold  and 
silver  and  other  things.'  " 


THE  TOMB  OF  NOOSHEERWAN. 

The  caliph  Haroon-oor-Rasheed  went  to  visit  the 
tomb  of  the  celebrated  Noosheerwan,  the  most 
famous  of  all  the  monarchs  who  ever  governed 
Persia.  Before  the  tomb  was  a  curtain  of  gold 
cloth,  which,  when  Haroon  touched  it^  fell  to  pieces. 
The  walls  of  the  tomb  were  covered  with  gold  and 
jewels,  whose  splendour  illumined  its  darkness.  The 
body  was  placed  in  a  sitting  posture  on  a  throne 
enchased  with  jewels,  and  had  so  much  the 
appearance  of  life  that,  on  the  first  impulse, 
the  Commander  of  the  Faithful  bent  to  the 
ground,  and  saluted  the  remains  of  the  just  Noo- 
sheerwan. 

Though  the  face  of  the  departed  monarch  was  like 
that  of  a  living  man,  and  the  whole  of  the  body  in 
a  state  of  preservation,  which  showed  the  admirable 
skill  of  those  who  embalmed  it,  yet  when  the  caliph 
touched  the  garments  they  mouldered  into  dust. 
Haroon  upon  this  took  his  own  rich  robes  and  threw 
them  over  the  corpse ;  he  also  hung  up  a  new  cur- 
tain richer  than  that  he  had  destroyed,  and  per- 


THE  TOMB   OF  NOOSHEERWAN.  31 

fumed   the   whole   tomb  with  camphor,  and  other 
sweet  scents. 

It  was  remarked  that  no  change  was  perceptible 
in  the  body  of  Noosheerwan,  except  that  the  ears 
had  become  white.  The  whole  scene  affected  the 
caliph  greatly;  he  burst  into  tears,  and  repeated 
from  the  Koran — "  What  I  have  seen  is  a  warning 
to  those  who  have  eyes."  He  observed  some  writ- 
ing upon  the  throne,  which  he  ordered  the  Moobids 
(priests),  who  were  learned  in  the  Pehlevee  language,  to 
read  and  explain.     They  did  so  :  it  was  as  follows  : — 

"  This  world  remains  not ;  the  man  who  thinks  least  of  it 
is  the  wisest. 

"  Enjoy  this  world  before  thou  becomest  its  prey. 

"  Bestow  the  same  favour  on  those  below  thee  as  thou 
desirest  to  receive  from  those  above  thee. 

"  If  thou  shouldst  conquer  the  whole  world,  death  will  at 
last  conquer  thee. 

"  Be  careful  that  thou  art  not  the  dupe  of  thine  own  for- 
tune. 

"  Thou  shalt  be  paid  exactly  for  what  thou  hast  done ; 
no  more,  no  less." 

The  caliph  observed  a  dark  ruby-ring  on  the  finger 
of  Noosheerwan,  on  which  was  written — 

"  Avoid  cruelty,  study  good,  and  never  be  precipitate  in 
action. 

"  If  thou  shouldst  live  for  a  hundred  years,  never  for  one 
moment  forget  death, 

"  Value  above  aU  things  the  society  of  the  wise." 

Around  the  right  arm  of  Noosheerwan  was  a  clasp 
of  gold,  on  which  was  engraved — 

'*0n  a  certain  year,  on  the  10th  day  of  the  month  Erde- 


32  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

behisht,  a  caliph  of  the  race  of  Adean,  professing  tLe  faitli  of 
Mahomed,  accompanied  by  four  good  men,  and  one  bad, 
shall  visit  my  tomb," 

Below  this  sentence  were  the  names  of  the  fore- 
fathers of  the  caliph.  Another  prophecy  was  added 
concerning  Haroon's  pilgrimage  to  Noosheerwan's 
tomb. 

"This  priuce  will  honour  me,  and  do  good  unto  me, 
though  I  have  no  claim  upon  him  ;  and  he  will  clothe  me  in 
a  new  vest,  and  besprinkle  my  tomb  with  sweet-scented 
essences,  and  then  depart  unto  his  home.  But  the  bad  man 
who  accompanies  him  shall  act  treacherously  towards  me. 
I  pray  that  God  may  send  one  of  my  race  to  repay  the  great 
favours  of  the  caliph,  and  to  take  vengeance  on  his  un- 
worthy companion.  There  is,  under  my  throne,  an  inscrip- 
tion which  the  caliph  must  read  and  contemplate.  Its 
contents  will  remind  him  of  me,  and  make  him  pardon  my 
inability  to  give  him  more." 

The  caliph,  on  hearing  this,  put  his  hand  under 
the  throne,  and  found  the  inscription,  which  con- 
sisted of  some  lines,  inscribed  on  a  ruby  as  large  as 
the  palm  of  the  hand.  The  Moobids  read  this  also. 
It  contained  information  Avhere  would  be  found  con- 
cealed a  treasure  of  gold  and  arms,  with  some  caskets 
of  rich  jewels  ;  under  this  was  written — 

"  These  I  give  to  the  caliph  in  return  for  the  good  he  has 
done  me  ;  let  him  take  them  and  be  happy." 

When  Haroon-oor-Easheed  was  about  to  leave  the 
tomb,  Hoosein-ben-Sahil,  his  vizier,  said  to  him  : 
"  0  Lord  of  the  Faithful,  w^hat  is  the  use  of  all  these 


THE   TOMB   OF   NOOSHEERWAN.  33 

precious  gems  which  ornament  the  abode  of  the 
dead,  and  are  of  no  benefit  to  the  living?  Allow 
me  to  take  some  of  them."  The  caliph  replied  with 
indignation,  "  Such  a  wish  is  more  worthy  of  a  thief 
than  of  a  great  or  wise  man."  Hoosein  was  ashamed 
of  his  speech,  and  said  to  the  servant  who  had  been 
placed  at  the  entrance  of  the  tomb,  "  Go  thou,  and 
worship  the  holy  shrine  within."  The  man  went 
into  the  tomb ;  he  was  above  a  hundred  years  old, 
but  he  had  never  seen  such  a  blaze  of  wealth.  He 
felt  inclined  to  plunder  some  of  it,  but  was  at  first 
afraid ;  at  last,  summoning  all  his  courage,  he  took 
a  ring  from  the  finger  of  Noosheerwan,  and  came 
away. 

Haroon  saw  this  man  come  out,  and  observing 
him  alarmed,  he  at  once  conjectured  what  he  had 
been  doing.  Addressing  those  around  him,  he  said, 
"  Do  not  you  now  see  the  extent  of  the  knowledge 
of  Noosheerwan  ?  He  prophesied  that  there  should 
be  one  unworthy  man  with  me.  It  is  this  fellow. 
What  have  you  taken  1  "  said  he,  in  an  angry  tone. 
"  Nothing,"  said  the  man.  "  Search  him,"  said  the 
caliph.  It  was  done,  and  the  ring  of  Noosheerwan 
was  found.  This  the  caliph  immediately  took,  and, 
entering  the  tomb,  replaced  it  on  the  cold  finger  of 
the  deceased  monarch.  AVhen  he  returned,  a 
terrible  sound  like  that  of  loud  thunder  was  heard. 

Haroon  came  down  from  the  mountain  on  which 
the  tomb  stood,  and  ordered  the  road  to  be  made 

Oriental  r* 


34  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

Id  accessible  to  future  curiosity.  He  searched  for, 
and  found,  in  the  place  described,  the  gold,  the 
arms,  and  the  jewels  bequeathed  to  him  by  Noo- 
sheerwan,  and  sent  them  to  Bagdad. 

Among  the  rich  articles  found  was  a  golden 
crown,  which  had  five  sides,  and  was  richly  orna- 
mented with  precious  stones.  On  every  side  a 
number  of  admirable  lessons  were  written.  The 
most  remarkable  were  as  follows  : — 

First  side. 

"  Give  my  regards  to  those  who  know  themselves. 

"  Consider  the  end  before  you  begin,  and  before  j^ou 
advance  provide  a  retreat. 

"  Give  not  unnecessary  pain  to  any  man,  but  study  the 
happiness  of  all. 

"Ground  not  your  dignity  upon  your  power  to  hurt 
others." 

Second  side. 

"Take  counsel  before  you  commence  any  measure,  and 
never  trust  its  execution  to  the  inexperienced. 

"  Sacrifice  your  property  for  your  life,  and  your  life  for 
your  religion. 

"  Spend  your  time  in  establishing  a  good  name  ;  and  if 
you  desire  fortune,  learn  contentment." 

Third  side. 

"  Grieve  not  for  that  which  is  broken,  stolen,  burnt,  or 
lost. 

"  Never  give  orders  in  another  man's  house  ;  and  accustom 
yourself  to  eat  your  bread  at  your  own  table. 

"  Make  not  yourself  the  cajitive  of  women." 


THE  TOMB   OF  NOOSHEERWAN.  35 


Fourth  side. 

"  Take  not  a  wife  from  a  bad  family,  and  seat  not  thyself 
with  those  who  have  no  shame. 

"  Keep  thyself  at  a  distance  from  those  who  are  incorri- 
gible in  bad  habits,  and  hold  no  intercourse  with  that  man 
who  is  insensible  to  kindness. 

"  Covet  not  the  goods  of  others. 

"  Be  guarded  with  monarchs,  for  they  are  like  fire  which 
blazeth  but  destroyeth. 

"  Be  sensible  to  your  own  value ;  estimate  justly  the 
worth  of  others  ;  and  war  not  with  those  who  are  far  above 
thee  in  fortune." 

Fifth  side. 

"  Fear  kings,  women,  and  poets. 

"  Be  envious  of  no  man,  and  habituate  not  thyself  to 
search  after  the  faults  of  others. 

"Make  it  a  habit  to  be  happy,  and  avoid  being  out  of 
temper,  or  thy  life  will  pass  in  misery. 

* '  Respect  and  protect  the  females  of  thy  family. 

"  Be  not  the  slave  of  anger  ;  and  in  thy  contests  always 
leave  open  the  door  of  conciliation. 

"  Never  let  your  expenses  exceed  your  income. 

"  Plant  a  young  tree,  or  you  cannot  expect  to  cut  down 
an  old  one. 

"Stretch  your  legs  no  further  than  the  size  of  your 
carpet." 

The  caliph  Haroon-oor-Rasheed  was  more  pleased 
with  the  admirable  maxims  inscribed  on  this  crown 
than  with  all  the  treasures  he  had  found.  "  Write 
these  precepts,"  he  exclaimed,  "in  a  book,  that  the 
faithful  may  eat  of  the  fruit  of  wisdom."  When  he 
returned  to  Bagdad,  he  related  to  his  favourite 
vizier,  Jaffier  Bermekee,  and  his  other  chief  officers, 


36  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

all  that  had  passed ;  and  the  shade  of  Noosheerwan 
was  propitiated  by  the  disgrace  of  Hoosein-ben-Sahil 
(who  had  recommended  despoiling  his  tomb),  and 
the  exemplary  punishment  of  the  servant  who  had 
committed  the  sacrilegious  act  of  taking  the  ring 
from  the  finger  of  the  departed  monarch. 


AMEEN  AND  THE  GHOOL. 

There  is  a  dreadful  place  in  Persia  called  the 
"Valley  of  the  Angel  of  Death."  That  terrific 
minister  of  God's  wrath,  according  to  tradition,  has 
resting-places  upon  the  earth  and  his  favourite 
abodes.  He  is  surrounded  by  ghools,  horrid  beings 
who,  when  he  takes  away  life,  feast  upon  the 
carcasses. 

The  natural  shape  of  these  monsters  is  terrible ; 
but  they  can  assume  those  of  animals,  such  as  cows 
or  camels,  or  whatever  they  choose,  often  appearing 
to  men  as  their  relations  or  friends,  and  then  they 
do  not  only  transform  their  shapes,  but  their  voices 
also  are  altered.  The  frightful  screams  and  yells 
which  are  often  heard  amid  these  dreaded  ravines 
are  changed  for  the  softest  and  most  melodious 
notes.  Unwary  travellers,  deluded  by  the  appearance 
of  friends,  or  captivated  by  the  forms  and  charmed 
by  the  music  of  these  demons,  are  allured  from  their 
path,  and  after  feasting  for  a  few  hours  on  every 
luxury,  are  consigned  to  destruction. 

The  number  of  these  ghools  has  greatly  decreased 

37 


38  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

since  the  birth  of  the  Prophet,  and  they  have  no 
power  to  hurt  those  who  pronounce  his  name  in 
sincerity  of  faith.  These  creatures  are  the  very- 
lowest  of  the  supernatural  world,  and,  besides  being 
timid,  are  extremely  stupid,  and  consequently  often 
imposed  upon  by  artful  men. 

The  natives  of  Isfahan,  though  not  brave,  are  the 
most  crafty  and  acute  people  upon  earth,  and  often 
supply  the  want  of  courage  by  their  address.  An 
inliabitant  of  that  city  was  once  compelled  to  travel 
alone  at  night  through  this  dreadful  valley.  He 
was  a  man  of  ready  wit,  and  fond  of  adventures, 
and,  though  no  lion,  had  great  confidence  in  his 
cunning,  which  had  brought  him  through  a  hundred 
scrapes  and  perils  that  would  have  embarrassed  or 
destroyed  your  simple  man  of  valour. 

This  man,  whose  name  was  Ameen  Beg,  had 
heard  many  stories  of  the  ghools  of  the  "  Valley  of 
the  Angel  of  Death,"  and  thought  it  likely  he  might 
meet  one.  He  prepared  accordingly,  by  putting  an 
egg  and  a  lump  of  salt  in  his  pocket.  He  had  not 
gone  far  amidst  the  rocks,  when  he  heard  a  voice 
crying,  "  Holloa,  Ameen  Beg  Isfahanee !  you  are 
going  the  wrong  road,  you  will  lose  yourself;  come 
this  way.  I  am  your  friend  Kerreem  Beg ;  I  know 
your  father,  old  Kerbela  Beg,  and  the  street  in 
which  you  were  born."  Ameen  knew  well  the 
power  the  ghools  had  of  assuming  the  shape  of  any 
person  they  choose ;  and  he  also  knew  their  skill  as 


AMEEN   AND   THE   GHOOL.  39 

genealogists,  and  their  knowledge  of  towns  as  well 
as  families ;  he  had  therefore  little  doubt  this  was 
one  of  those  creatures  alluring  him  to  destruction. 
He,  however,  determined  to  encounter  him,  and 
trust  to  his  art  for  his  escape. 

"  Stop,  my  friend,  till  I  come  near  you,"  was  his 
reply.  When  Ameen  came  close  to  the  ghool,  he 
said,  "  You  are  not  my  friend  Kerreem  ;  you  are  a 
lying  demon,  but  you  are  just  the  being  I  desired  to 
meet.  I  have  tried  my  strength  against  all  the  men 
and  all  the  beasts  which  exist  in  the  natural  world, 
and  I  can  find  nothing  that  is  a  match  for  me.  I 
came  therefore  to  this  valley  in  the  hope  of  en- 
countering a  ghool,  that  I  might  prove  my  prowess 
upon  him." 

The  ghool,  astonished  at  being  addressed  in  this 
manner,  looked  keenly  at  him,  and  said,  "  Son  of 
Adam,  you  do  not  appear  so  strong."  "Appear- 
ances are  deceitful,"  replied  Ameen,  "  but  I  will 
give  you  a  proof  of  my  strength.  There,"  said  he, 
picking  up  a  stone  from  a  rivulet,  "  this  contains  a 
fluid ;  try  if  you  can  so  squeeze  it  that  it  will  flow 
out."  The  ghool  took  the  stone,  but,  after  a  short 
attempt,  returned  it,  saying,  "  The  thing  is  impos- 
sible." "  Quite  ealy,"  said  the  Isfahanee,  taking  the 
stone  and  placing  it  in  the  hand  in  which  he  had 
before  put  the  egg.  "  Look  there !  "  And  the 
astonished  ghool,  while  he  heard  what  he  took  for 
the  breaking  of  the  stone,  saw  the  liquid  run  from 


40  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE  TALES. 

between  Ameen's  fingers,  and  this  apparently  with- 
out any  effort, 

Ameen,  aided  by  the  darkness,  placed  the  stone 
upon  the  ground  while  he  picked  up  another  of  a 
darker  hue.  "  This,"  said  he,  "  I  can  see  contains 
salt,  as  you  will  find  if  you  can  crumble  it  between 
j^our  fingers;"  but  the  ghool,  looking  at  it,  con- 
fessed he  had  neither  knowledge  to  discover  its 
qualities  nor  strength  to  break  it.  "  Give  it  me," 
said  his  companion  impatiently;  and,  having  put 
it  into  the  same  hand  with  the  piece  of  salt,  he 
instantly  gave  the  latter  all  crushed  to  the  ghool, 
who,  seeing  it  reduced  to  powder,  tasted  it,  and 
remained  in  stupid  astonishment  at  the  skill  and 
strength  of  this  wonderful  man.  Neither  was  he 
without  alarm  lest  his  strength  should  be  exerted 
against  himself,  and  he  saw  no  safety  in  resorting 
to  the  shape  of  a  beast,  for  Ameen  had  warned  him 
that  if  he  commenced  any  such  unfair  dealing,  he 
would  instantly  slay  him ;  for  ghools,  though  long- 
lived,  are  not  immortal. 

Under  such  circumstances  he  thought  his  best 
plan  was  to  conciliate  the  friendship  of  his  new 
companion  till  he  found  an  opportunity  of  destroy- 
ing him. 

"  Most  wonderful  man,"  he  said,  "  will  you  honour 
my  abode  with  your  presence  1  it  is  quite  at  hand  : 
there  you  will  find  every  refreshment;  and  after  a  com- 
fortable night's  rest  you  can  resume  your  journey." 


AMEEN  AND  THE  GHOOL.  41 

"I  have  no  objection,  friend  ghool,  to  accept 
your  offer ;  but,  mark  me,  I  am,  in  the  first  place, 
very  passionate,  and  must  not  be  provoked  by  any 
expressions  which  are  in  the  least  disrespectful; 
and,  in  the  second,  I  am  full  of  penetration,  and 
can  see  through  your  designs  as  clearly  as  I  saw 
into  that  hard  stone  in  which  I  discovered  salt.  So 
take  care  you  entertain  none  that  are  wicked,  or 
you  shall  suffer." 

The  ghool  declared  that  the  ear  of  his  guest  should 
be  pained  by  no  expression  to  which  it  did  not  befit 
his  dignity  to  listen ;  and  he  swore  by  the  head  of 
his  liege  lord,  the  Angel  of  Death,  that  he  would 
faithfully  respect  the  rights  of  hospitality  and  friend- 
ship. 

Thus  satisfied,  Ameen  followed  the  ghool  through 
a  number  of  crooked  paths,  rugged  cliffs,  and  deep 
ravines,  till  they  came  to  a  large  cave,  which  was 
dimly  lighted.  "Here,"  said  the  ghool,  "I  dwell, 
and  here  my  friend  will  find  all  he  can  want  for 
refreshment  and  repose."  So  saying,  he  led  him  to 
various  apartments,  in  which  were  hoarded  every 
species  of  grain,  and  all  kinds  of  merchandise, 
plundered  from  travellers  who  had  been  deluded  to 
this  den,  and  of  whose  fate  Ameen  was  too  well 
informed  by  the  bones  over  which  he  now  and  then 
stumbled,  and  by  the  putrid  smell  produced  by  some 
half-consumed  carcasses. 

"  This  will  be  sufficient  for  your  supper,  I  hope," 


42  ORIENTAL   FOLKLOKE   TALES. 

said  the  ghool,  taking  up  a  large  bag  of  rice ;  "  a 
man  of  your  prowess  must  have  a  tolerable  appetite." 
"True,"  said  Ameen,  "but  I  ate  a  sheep  and  as 
much  rice  as  you  have  there  before  I  proceeded  on 
my  journey.  I  am,  consequently,  not  hungry,  but 
will  take  a  little  lest  I  offend  your  hospitalit3^" 
"  I  must  boil  it  for  you,"  said  the  demon ;  "  you  do 
not  eat  grain  and  meat  raw,  as  we  do.  Here  is  a 
kettle,"  said  he,  taking  up  one  lying  amongst  the 
plundered  property.  "  I  will  go  and  get  wood  for  a 
fire,  while  you  fetch  water  with  that,"  pointing  to  a 
bag  made  of  the  hides  of  six  oxen. 

Ameen  waited  till  he  saw  his  host  leave  the  cave 
for  the  wood,  and  then  with  great  difficulty  he 
dragged  the  enormous  bag  to  the  bank  of  a  dark 
stream,  which  issued  from  the  rocks  at  the  other 
end  of  the  cavern,  and,  after  being  visible  for  a  few 
yards,  disappeared  underground. 

"  How  shall  I,"  thought  Ameen,  "  prevent  my 
weakness  being  discovered  1  This  bag  I  could  hardly 
manage  when  empty;  when  full,  it  would  require 
twenty  strong  men  to  carry  it ;  what  shall  I  do  ?  I 
shall  certainly  be  eaten  up  by  this  cannibal  ghool, 
who  is  now  only  kept  in  order  by  the  impression  of 
my  great  strength."  After  some  minutes'  reflection 
the  Isfahanee  thought  of  a  scheme,  and  began 
digging  a  small  channel  from  the  stream  towards 
the  place  where  his  supper  was  preparing. 

"  What  are  you  doing  ?  "  vociferated  the  ghool.  as 


AMEEN  AND   THE  GHOOL.  43 

he  advanced  towards  him ;  "  I  sent  you  for  water  to 
boil  a  little  rice,  and  you  have  been  an  hour  about 
it.  Cannot  you  fill  the  bag  and  bring  it  away  1 " 
"  Certainly  I  can,"  said  Ameen ;  "  if  I  were  content, 
after  all  your  kindness,  to  show  my  gratitude  merely 
by  feats  of  brute  strength,  I  could  lift  your  stream 
if  you  had  a  bag  large  enough  to  hold  it.  But  here," 
said  he,  pointing  to  the  channel  he  had  begun, — 
"  here  is  the  commencement  of  a  work  in  which  the 
mind  of  a  man  is  employed  to  lessen  the  labour  of 
his  body.  This  canal,  small  as  it  may  appear,  will 
carry  a  stream  to  the  other  end  of  the  cave,  in 
which  I  will  construct  a  dam  that  you  can  open  and 
shut  at  pleasure,  and  thereby  save  yourself  infinite 
trouble  in  fetching  water.  But  pray  let  me  alone 
till  it  is  finished,"  and  he  began  to  dig.  "  Nonsense! " 
said  the  ghool,  seizing  the  bag  and  filling  it;  "I 
will  carry  the  w^ater  myself,  and  I  advise  you  to 
leave  off"  your  canal,  as  you  call  it,  and  follow  me, 
that  you  may  eat  your  supper  and  go  to  sleep ;  you 
may  finish  this  fine  work,  if  you  like  it,  to-morrow 
morning." 

Ameen  congratulated  himself  on  this  escape,  and 
was  not  slow  in  taking  the  advice  of  his  host. 
After  having  ate  heartily  of  the  supper  that  was 
prepared,  he  went  to  repose  on  a  bed  made  of  the 
richest  coverlets  and  pillows,  which  were  taken  from 
one  of  the  store-rooms  of  plundered  goods.  The 
ghool,  whose  bed  was  also  in  the  cave,  had  no  sooner 


44  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

laid  down  than  he  fell  into  a  sound  sleep.  The 
anxiety  of  Ameen's  mind  prevented  him  from 
following  his  example ;  he  rose  gently,  and  having 
stuffed  a  long  pillow  into  the  middle  of  his  bed, 
to  make  it  appear  as  if  he  was  still  there,  he  retired 
to  a  concealed  place  in  the  cavern  to  watch  the 
proceedings  of  the  ghool.  The  latter  awoke  a  short 
time  before  daylight,  and  rising,  went,  without 
making  any  noise,  towards  Ameen's  bed,  where,  not 
observing  the  least  stir,  he  was  satisfied  that  his 
guest  was  in  a  deep  sleep  ;  so  he  took  up  one  of  his 
walking-sticks,  which  was  in  size  like  the  trunk  of 
a  tree,  and  struck  a  terrible  blow  at  what  he  sup- 
posed to  be  Ameen's  head.  He  smiled  not  to  hear 
a  groan,  thinking  he  had  deprived  him  of  life ;  but 
to  make  sure  of  his  work,  he  repeated  the  blow 
seven  times.  He  then  returned  to  rest,  but  had 
hardly  settled  himself  to  sleep,  when  Ameen,  who 
had  crept  into  the  bed,  raised  his  head  above  the 
clothes  and  exclaimed,  "  Friend  ghool,  what  insect 
could  it  be  that  has  disturbed  me  by  its  tapping  1 
I  counted  the  flap  of  its  little  wings  seven  times  on 
the  coverlet.  These  vermin  are  very  annoying,  for, 
though  they  cannot  hurt  a  man,  they  disturb  his 
rest !  " 

The  ghool's  dismay  on  hearing  Ameen  speak  at 
all  was  great,  but  that  was  increased  to  perfect  fright 
when  he  heard  him  describe  seven  blows,  any  one  of 
which  would  have  felled  an  elephant,  as  seven  flaps 


AMEEN   AND   THE   GHOOL.  45 

of  an  insect's  wing.  There  was  no  safety,  he 
thought,  near  so  wonderful  a  man,  and  he  soon 
afterwards  arose  and  fled  from  the  cave,  leaving  the 
Isfahan  ee  its  sole  master. 

When  Ameen  found  his  host  gone,  he  was  at  no 
loss  to  conjecture  the  cause,  and  immediately  began 
to  survey  the  treasures  with  which  he  was  sur- 
rounded, and  to  contrive  means  for  removing  them 
to  his  home. 

After  examining  the  contents  of  the  cave,  and 
arming  himself  with  a  matchlock,  which  had  belonged 
to  some  victim  of  the  ghool,  he  proceeded  to  survey 
the  road.  He  had,  however,  only  gone  a  short 
distance  when  he  saAv  the  ghool  returning  with  a 
large  club  in  his  hand,  and  accompanied  by  a  fox. 
Ameen's  knowledge  of  the  cunning  animal  instantly 
led  him  to  suspect  that  it  had  undeceived  his 
enemy,  but  his  presence  of  mind  did  not  forsake 
him.  "Take  that,"  said  he  to  the  fox,  aiming  a 
ball  at  him  from  his  matchlock,  and  shooting  him 
through  the  head, — "  Take  that  for  your  not  perform- 
ing my  orders.  That  brute,"  said  he,  "  promised  to 
bring  me  seven  ghools,  that  I  might  chain  them,  and 
carry  them  to  Isfahan,  and  here  he  has  only  brought 
you,  who  are  already  my  slave."  So  saying,  he 
advanced  towards  the  ghool ;  but  the  latter  had 
already  taken  to  flight,  and  by  the  aid  of  his  club 
bounded  so  rapidly  over  rocks  and  precipices  that 
he  was  soon  out  of  sight. 


46  OEIENTAL  FOLKLOEE   TALES. 

Ameen  having  well  marked  the  path  from  the 
cavern  to  the  road,  went  to  the  nearest  town  and 
hired  camels  and  mules  to  remove  the  property  he 
had  acquired.  After  making  restitution  to  all  who 
remained  alive  to  prove  their  goods,  he  became,  from 
what  was  unclaimed,  a  man  of  wealth,  all  of  which 
was  owing  to  that  wit  and  art  which  ever  overcome 
brute  strength  and  courage. 


THE  EELATIONS  OF  SSIDI  KUR. 

Glorified  Nangasuna  Garbi !  thou  art  radiant 
within  and  without;  the  holy  vessel  of  sublimity, 
the  fathomer  of  concealed  thoughts,  the  second  of 
instructors,  I  bow  before  thee.  What  wonderful 
adventures  fell  to  the  lot  of  Nangasuna,  and  to  the 
peaceful  wandering  Chan,  and  how  instructive  and 
learned  the  Ssidi  will  be  found,  all  this  is 
developed  in  thirteen  pleasing  narratives. 

And  I  will  first  relate  the  origin  of  these  tales  : — 
In  the  central  kingdom  of  India  there  once  lived 
seven  brothers,  who  were  magicians  ;  and  one  berren 
(a  measure  of  distance)  further  dwelt  two  brothers, 
who  were  sons  of  a  Chan.  Now  the  eldest  of  these 
sons  of  the  Chan  betook  himself  to  the  magicians, 
that  he  might  learn  their  art ;  but  although  he 
studied  under  them  for  seven  years,  yet  the 
magicians  taught  him  not  the  true  key  to  magic. 

And  once  upon  a  time  it  happened  that  the 
youngest  brother,  going  to  bring  food  to  the  elder, 
peeped  through  the  opening  of  the  door,  and 
obtained   the  key  to  magic.     Thereupon,   without 


48  ORIENTAL  FOLKLOEE   TALES. 

delivering  to  the  elder  the  food  which  he  had 
brought  for  him,  he  returned  home  to  the  palace. 
Then  said  the  younger  son  of  the  Chan  to  his 
brother,  "That  we  have  learned  magic,  let  us  keep 
to  ourselves.  We  have  in  the  stable  a  beautiful 
horse ;  take  this  horse,  and  ride  not  with  him  near 
the  dwelling-place  of  the  magicians,  but  sell  the 
horse  in  their  country,  and  bring  back  merchan- 
dise." 

And  when  he  had  said  thus,  he  changed  himself 
into  a  horse.  But  the  elder  sou  of  the  Chan  heeded 
not  the  words  of  his  brother,  but  said  unto  himself : 
"  Full  seven  years  have  I  studied  magic,  and  as  yet 
have  learned  nothing.  Where,  then,  has  my  young 
brother  found  so  beautiful  a  horse  ?  and  how  can  I 
refuse  to  ride  thereon  1  " 

With  these  words  he  mounted,  but  the  horse 
being  impelled  by  the  power  of  magic  was  not  to  be 
restrained,  galloped  away  to  the  dwelling-place  of 
the  magicians,  and  could  not  be  got  from  the  door. 
"  Well,  then,  I  will  sell  the  horse  to  the  magicians." 
Thus  thinking  to  himself,  the  elder  called  out  to  the 
magicians,  "Saw  ye  ever  a  horse  like  unto  this? 
My  younger  brother  it  was  who  found  him."  At 
these  words  the  magicians  communed  with  one 
another.  "  This  is  a  magic  horse ;  if  magic  grow  at 
all  common,  there  will  be  no  wonderful  art  remain- 
ing. Let  us,  therefore,  take  this  horse  and  slay 
him/' 


THE   RELATIONS   OF    SSIDI   KUE.  49 

The  magicians  paid  the  price  demanded  for  the 
horse,  and  tied  him  in  a  stall ;  and  that  he  might 
not  escape  out  of  their  hands,  they  fastened  him, 
ready  for  slaughter,  by  the  head,  by  the  tail,  and  by 
the  feet.  "  Ah ! "  thought  the  horse  to  himself, 
*'my  elder  brother  hearkened  not  unto  me,  and 
therefore  am  I  fallen  into  such  hands.  What  form 
shall  I  assume  1 "  While  the  horse  was  thus 
considering,  he  saw  a  fish  swim  by  him  in  the 
water,  and  immediately  he  changed  himself  into 
a  fish. 

But  the  seven  magicians  became  seven  herons, 
and  pursued  the  fish,  and  were  on  the  point  of 
catching  it,  when  it  looked  up  and  beheld  a  dove  in 
the  sky,  and  thereupon  transformed  itself  into  a 
dove.  The  seven  magicians  now  became  seven 
hawks,  and  followed  the  dove  over  mountains  and 
rivers,  and  would  certainly  have  seized  upon  it,  but 
the  dove,  flying  eastwards  to  the  peaceful  cave  in 
the  rock  Gulumtschi,  concealed  itself  in  the  bosom 
of  Nangasuna  Baktschi  (the  Instructor).  Then  the 
seven  hawks  became  seven  beggars,  and  drew  nigh 
unto  the  rock  Gulumtschi.  "What  may  this  import?" 
bethought  the  Baktschi  to  himself,  "that  this  dove 
has  fled  hither  pursued  by  seven  hawks  ? "  Thus 
thinking,  the  Baktschi  said,  "Wherefore,  0  dove, 
fliest  thou  hither  in  such  alarm  ? "  Then  the  dove 
related  to  him  the  cause  of  its  flight,  and  spake 
afterwards  as   follows : — "  At  the  entrance  to  the 

Oriental,  -p. 


50  ORIENTAL   FOLKLOKE   TALES. 

rock  Gulumtschi  stand  seven  beggars,  and  they  will 
come  to  the  Baktschi  and  say,  '  We  pray  thee  give 
us  the  rosary  of  the  Baktschi  ? '  Then  will  I  trans- 
form myself  into  the  Bumba  of  the  rosary ;  let  the 
Baktschi  then  vouchsafe  to  take  this  Bumba  into 
his  mouth  and  to  cast  the  rosary  from  him." 

Hereupon  the  seven  beggars  drew  nigh,  and  the 
Baktschi  took  the  first  bead  into  his  mouth  and  the 
rest  he  cast  from  him.  The  beads  which  w^ere  cast 
away  then  became  worms,  and  the  seven  beggars 
became  fowls  and  ate  up  the  worms.  Then  the 
Baktschi  let  the  first  bead  fall  from  his  mouth,  and 
thereupon  the  first  bead  was  transformed  into  a 
man  with  a  sword  in  his  hand.  When  the  seven 
fowls  were  slain  and  become  human  corses,  the 
Baktschi  was  troubled  in  his  soul,  and  said  these 
words,  "Through  my  having  preserved  one  single 
man  have  seven  been  slain.  Of  a  verity  this  is  not 
good." 

To  these  words  the  other  replied,  "  I  am  the  Son  of 
a  Chan.  Since,  therefore,  through  the  preservation 
of  my  life,  several  others  have  lost  their  lives,  I  will, 
to  cleanse  me  from  my  sins,  and  also  to  reward  the 
Baktschi,  execute  whatsoever  he  shall  command  me." 
The  Baktschi  replied  thereto,  "Now,  then,  in  the 
cold  Forest  of  Death  there  abides  Ssidi  Kur ;  the 
upper  part  of  his  body  is  decked  with  gold,  the 
lower  is  of  brass,  his  head  is  covered  with  silver. 
Seize  him  and  hold  him  fast.     Whosoever  finds  this 


THE  RELATIONS   OF   SSIDI   KUR.  51 

wonderful  Ssidi  Kur,  him  will  I  make  for  a  thousand 
years  a  man  upon  the  earth." 

Thus  spake  he,  and  the  youth  thereupon  began 
these  words :  "  The  way  which  I  must  take,  the 
food  which  I  require,  the  means  which  I  must 
employ,  all  these  vouchsafe  to  make  known  unto 
me."  To  this  the  Baktschi  replied,  "  It  shall  be  as 
thou  demandest.  At  the  distance  of  a  berren  (a 
measure  of  distance)  from  this  place  you  will  come  to 
a  gloomy  forest,  through  which  you  will  find  there 
runs  only  one  narrow  path.  The  place  is  full  of 
spirits.  When  thou  reachest  the  spirits,  they  will 
throng  around  you ;  then  cry  ye  with  a  loud  voice, 
'  Spirits,  chu  lu  chu  lu  ssochi ! '  And  when  thou 
hast  spoken  these  words,  they  will  all  be  scattered 
like  grain.  AVhen  thou  hast  proceeded  a  little 
further,  you  will  encounter  a  crowd  of  other  spirits ; 
then  cry  ye,  '  Spirits,  chu  lu  chu  lu  ssosi ! '  And  a 
little  further  on  you  will  behold  a  crowd  of  child- 
spirits  :  say  unto  these,  '  Child-spirits,  Ei  ra  pa 
dra ! '  In  the  middle  of  this  wood  sits  Ssidi  Kur, 
beside  an  amiri-tree.  When  he  beholds  you,  he  will 
climb  up  it,  but  you  must  take  the  moon-axe,  with 
furious  gestures  draw  nigh  unto  the  tree,  and  bid 
Ssidi  Kur  descend.  To  bring  him  away  you  will 
require  this  sack,  which  would  hold  a  hundred  men. 
To  bind  him  fast  this  hundred  fathoms  of  checkered 
rope  will  serve  you.  This  inexhaustible  cake  will 
furnish  thee  with  provender  for  thy  journey.     When 


52  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

thou  hast  got  thy  load  upon  thy  back,  wander  then 
on  without  speaking,  until  thou  art  returned  home 
again.  Thy  name  is  Son  of  the  Chan ;  and  since 
thou  hast  reached  the  peaceful  rock  Gulumtschi, 
thou  shalt  be  called  the  peaceful  wandering  Son  of 
the  Chan." 

Thus  spake  the  Baktschi,  and  showed  him  the 
way  of  expiation.  When  Ssidi  Kur  beheld  his 
pursuer,  he  speedily  climbed  up  the  amiri-tree,  but 
the  Son  of  the  Chan  drew  nigh  unto  the  foot  of  the 
tree,  and  spake  with  threatening  words :  "  My 
Baktschi  is  Nangasuna  Garbi;  mine  axe  is  called 
the  white  moon ;  an  inexhaustible  cake  is  my  pro- 
vender. This  sack,  capable  of  holding  a  hundred 
men,  will  serve  to  carry  thee  away,  this  hundred 
fathoms  of  rope  will  serve  to  bind  thee  fast ;  I  my- 
self am  the  peaceful  wandering  Son  of  the  Chan. 
Descend,  or  I  will  hew  down  the  tree." 

Then  spake  Ssidi  Kur,  "  Do  not  hew  down  the 
tree  ;  I  will  descend  from  it." 

And  when  he  had  descended,  the  Son  of  the  Chan 
thrust  him  into  the  sack,  tied  the  sack  fast  with  the 
rope,  ate  of  the  butter-cake,  and  wandered  forth 
many  days  with  his  burden.  At  length  Ssidi  Kur 
said  to  the  Son  of  the  Chan,  "Since  our  long 
journey  is  wearisome  unto  us,  I  will  tell  a  story  unto 
you,  or  do  you  relate  one  unto  me." 

The  Son  of  the  Chan  kept  on  his  way,  however, 
without  speaking  a  word,  and  Ssidi  began  afresh. 


THE   RELATIONS   OF   SSIDI   KUR.  53 

''  If  thou  wilt  tell  a  story,  nod  your  head  to  me  ;  if  I 
shall  relate  one,  then  do  you  shake  your  head." 

But  because  the  Son  of  the  Chan  shook  his  head 
from  side  to  side,  without  uttering  a  word,  Ssidi 
began  the  following  tale  : — 

The  Adventures  of  the  Eich  Youth. 

"  In  former  times  there  lived,  in  a  great  kingdom, 
a  rich  youth,  a  calculator,  a  mechanic,  a  painter,  a 
physician,  and  a  smith,  and  they  all  departed  from 
their  parents  and  went  forth  into  a  foreign  land. 
When  they  at  length  arrived  at  the  mouth  of  a  great 
river,  they  planted,  every  one  of  them,  a  tree  of  life ; 
and  each  of  them,  following  one  of  the  sources  of 
the  river,  set  forth  to  seek  their  fortunes.  '  Here,' 
said  they  to  one  another, — '  here  will  we  meet  again. 
Should,  however,  any  one  of  us  be  missing,  and  his 
tree  of  life  be  withered,  we  will  search  for  him  in 
the  place  whither  he  went  to.' 

"  Thus  they  agreed,  and  separated  one  from 
another.  And  the  rich  youth  found  at  the  source 
of  the  stream,  which  he  had  followed,  a  pleasure- 
garden  with  a  house,  in  the  entrance  to  which  were 
seated  an  old  man  and  an  old  woman.  '  Good 
youth,'  exclaimed  they  both,  'whence  comest  thou— 
whither  goest  thou  ] '  The  youth  replied,  '  I  come 
from  a  distant  country,  and  am  going  to  seek  my 
fortune.'     And  the  old  couple  said  unto  him,  '  It  i§ 


54  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

well  thou  hast  come  hither.  We  have  a  daughter, 
slender  of  shape  and  pleasant  of  behaviour.  Take 
her,  and  be  a  son  unto  us !  ' 

"And  when  they  had  so  spoken,  the  daughter 
made  her  appearance.  And  when  the  youth  beheld 
her,  he  thought  unto  himself,  '  It  is  well  I  left  my 
father  and  my  mother.  This  maiden  is  more  beau- 
teous than  a  daughter  of  the  Tangari  (god-like  spirits 
of  the  male  and  female  sex).  I  will  take  the  maiden 
and  dwell  here.'  And  the  maiden  said,  'Youth,  it 
is  well  that  thou  camest  here.'  Thereupon  they 
conversed  together,  went  together  into  the  house, 
and  lived  peacefully  and  happily. 

"Now,  over  the  same  country  there  reigned  a 
mighty  Chan.  And  once  in  the  spring-time,  when 
his  servants  went  forth  together  to  bathe,  they 
found,  near  the  mouth  of  the  river,  in  the  water,  a 
pair  of  costly  earrings,  which  belonged  to  the  wife 
of  the  rich  youth.  Because,  therefore,  these  jewels 
were  so  wondrously  beautiful,  they  carried  them  to 
the  Chan,  who,  being  greatly  surprised  thereat,  said 
unto  his  servants,  'Dwells  there  at  the  source  of 
the  river  a  woman  such  as  these  belong  to  1  Go, 
and  bring  her  unto  me.' 

"The  servants  went  accordingly,  beheld  the 
woman,  and  were  amazed  at  the  sight.  'This 
woman,'  said  they  to  one  another,  '  one  would  never 
tire  of  beholding.'  But  to  the  woman  they  said, 
'Arise !  and  draw  nigh  with  us  unto  the  Chan.' 


THE  RELATIONS   OF   SSIDI  KUR.  55 

"  Hereupon  the  rich  youth  conducted  his  wife  to 
the  presence  of  the  Chan;  but  the  Chan,  when  he 
beheld  her,  exclaimed,  '  This  maiden  is  a  Tangari, 
compared  with  her,  my  wives  are  but  ugly.' 

Thus  spake  he,  and  he  was  so  smitten  with  love 
of  her,  that  he  would  not  let  her  depart  from  his 
house.  But  as  she  remained  true  and  faithful  to 
the  rich  youth,  the  Chan  said  unto  his  servants, 
'  Remove  this  rich  youth  instantly  out  of  my  sight.' 

"At  these  commands  the  servants  went  forth, 
taking  with  them  the  rich  youth,  whom  they  led  to 
the  water,  where  they  laid  him  in  a  pit  by  the  side 
of  the  stream,  covered  him  with  a  huge  fragment  of 
the  rock,  and  thus  slew  him. 

"  At  length  it  happened  that  the  other  w^anderers 
returned  from  all  sides,  each  to  his  tree  of  life ;  and 
when  the  rich  youth  was  missed,  and  they  saw  that 
his  tree  of  life  was  withered,  they  sought  him  up 
the  source  of  the  river  which  he  had  followed,  but 
found  him  not.  Hereupon  the  reckoner  discovered, 
by  his  calculations,  that  the  rich  youth  was  lying 
dead  under  a  piece  of  the  rock ;  but  as  they  could 
by  no  means  remove  the  stone,  the  smith  took  his 
hammer,  smote  the  stone,  and  drew  out  the  body. 
Then  the  physician  mixed  a  life-inspiring  draught, 
gave  the  same  to  the  dead  youth,  and  so  restored 
him  to  life. 

"  They  now  demanded  of  him  whom  they  had 
recalled  to  life,  *  In  what  manner  wert  thou  slain  *? ' ' 


56  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

He  accordingly  related  unto  them  the  circumstances ; 
and  they  communed  one  with  another,  saying,  '  Let 
us  snatch  this  extraordinary  beautiful  woman  from 
the  Chan ! '  Thereupon  the  mechanic  constructed  a 
wooden  gerudin,  or  wonderful  bird,  which,  when 
moved  upwards  from  within,  ascended  into  the  air ; 
when  moved  downwards,  descended  into  the  earth ; 
when  moved  sideways,  flew  sideways  accordingly. 
When  this  was  done,  they  painted  it  with  different 
colours,  so  that  it  was  pleasant  to  behold. 

*'  Then  the  rich  youth  seated  himself  within  the 
wooden  bird,  flew  through  the  air,  and  hovered  over 
the  roof  of  the  royal  mansion  ;  and  the  Chan  and 
his  servants  were  astonished  at  the  form  of  the  bird, 
and  said,  '  A  bird  like  unto  this  we  never  before  saw 
or  heard  of  And  to  his  wife  the  Chan  said,  *  Go 
ye  to  the  roof  of  the  palace,  and  off'er  food  of 
different  kinds  unto  this  strange  bird.'  When  she 
went  up  to  off'er  food,  the  bird  descended,  and  the 
rich  youth  opened  the  door  which  was  in  the  bird. 
Then  said  the  wife  of  the  Chan,  full  of  joy,  '  I  had 
never  hoped  or  thought  to  have  seen  thee  again,  yet 
now  have  I  found  thee  once  more.  This  has  been 
accomplished  by  this  wonderful  bird.'  After  the 
youth  had  related  to  her  all  that  had  happened,  he 
said  unto  her,  '  Thou  art  now  the  wife  of  the  Chan — 
but  if  your  heart  now  yearns  unto  me,  step  thou  into 
this  wooden  gerudin,  and  we  will  fly  hence  through 
the  air,  and  for  the  future  know  care  no  more.' 


THE    KELATIOXS    OF   SSIDI   KUR.  57 

"After  these  words  the  wife  said,  'To  the  first 
husband  to  whom  destiny  united  me  am  I  inclined 
more  than  ever.'  Having  thus  spoken  they  entered 
into  the  wooden  gerudin,  and  ascended  into  the  sky. 
The  Chan  beheld  this,  and  said,  'Because  I  sent 
thee  up  that  thou  mightest  feed  this  beautiful  bird, 
thou  hast  betaken  thyself  to  the  skies.'  Thus  spake 
he  full  of  anger,  and  threw  himself  weeping  on  the 
ground. 

'■  The  rich  youth  now  turned  the  peg  in  the  bird 
downwards,  and  descended  upon  the  earth  close  to 
his  companions.  And  when  he  stepped  forth  out  of 
the  bird,  his  companions  asked  him,  '  Hast  thou 
thoroughly  accomplished  all  that  thou  didst  desire  ? ' 
Thereupon  his  wife  also  stepped  forth,  and  all  who 
beheld  her  became  in  love  with  her.  'You,  my 
companions,'  said  the  rich  youth,  '  have  brought  help 
unto  me ;  you  have  awakened  me  from  death ;  you 
have  afforded  me  the  means  of  once  more  finding 
my  wife.  Do  not,  I  beseech  you,  rob  me  of  my 
charmer  once  again.' 

"  Thus  spake  he ;  and  the  calculator  began  with 
these  words  : — '  Had  I  not  discovered  by  my  calcula- 
tion where  thou  wert  lying,  thou  wouldst  never 
have  recovered  thy  wife.' 

"  '  In  vain,'  said  the  smith, '  would  the  calculations 
have  been,  had  I  not  drawn  thee  out  of  the  rock. 
By  means  of  the  shattered  rock  it  was  that  you 
obtained  your  wife.     Then  your  wife  belongs  to  me.' 


58  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

"  '  A  body,'  said  the  physician,  '  was  drawn  from 
out  of  the  shattered  rock.  That  this  body  was 
restored  to  life,  and  recovered  his  former  wife,  it 
was  my  skill  accomplished  it.  I,  therefore,  should 
take  the  wife.' 

"  'But  for  the  wooden  bird,'  said  the  mechanic, '  no 
one  would  ever  have  reached  the  wife.  A  numerous 
host  attend  upon  the  Chan  ;  no  one  can  approach  the 
house  wherein  he  resides.  Through  my  wooden  bird 
alone  was  the  wife  recovered.    Let  me,  then,  take  her.' 

"  '  The  wife,'  said  the  painter,  *  never  would  have 
carried  food  to  a  wooden  bird ;  therefore  it  was 
only  through  my  skill  in  painting  that  she  was 
recovered;  I,  therefore,  claim  her.' 

"And  when  they  had  thus  spoken,  they  drew 
their  knives  and  slew  one  another." 

"  Alas  !  poor  woman  ! "  exclaimed  the  son  of  the 
Chan ;  and  Ssidi  said,  "  Euler  of  Destiny,  thou  hast 
spoken  words : — Ssarwala  missbrod  jackzang ! "  Thus 
spake  he,  and  burst  from  the  sack  through  the  air. 

Thus  Ssidi's  first  tale  treated  of  the  adventures  of 
the  rich  youth. 

The  Adventures  of  the  Beggar's  Son. 

When  the  Son  of  the  Chan  arrived  as  before  at 
the  cold  Forest  of  Death,  he  exclaimed  with  threat- 
ening gestures  at  the  foot  of  the  amiri-tree,  "  Thou 
dead  one,  descend,  or  I  will  hew  down  the  tree." 
Ssidi  descended.     The  son  of  Chan  placed  him  in 


THE   RELATIONS   OF   SSIDI  KUE.  59 

the  sack,  bound  the  sack  fast  with  the  rope,  ate  of 
his  provender,  and  journeyed  forthwith  his  burden. 
Then  spake  the  dead  one  these  words,  "  Since  we 
have  a  long  journey  before  us,  do  you  relate  a 
pleasant  story  by  the  way,  or  I  will  do  so."  But 
the  Son  of  the  Chan  merely  shook  his  head  without 
speaking  a  word.  Whereupon  Ssidi  commenced  the 
following  tale  : — 

"  A  long  time  ago  there  was  a  mighty  Chan  who 
was  ruler  over  a  country  full  of  market-places.  At 
the  source  of  the  river  which  ran  through  it  there 
was  an  immense  marsh,  and  in  this  marsh  there 
dwelt  two  crocodile-frogs,  who  would  not  allow  the 
water  to  run  out  of  the  marsh.  And  because  there 
came  no  water  over  their  fields,  every  year  did  both 
the  good  and  the  bad  have  cause  to  mourn,  until 
such  times  as  a  man  had  been  given  to  the  frogs  for 
the  pests  to  devour.  And  at  length  the  lot  fell 
upon  the  Chan  himself  to  be  an  offering  to  them, 
and  needful  as  he  was  to  the  welfare  of  the  king- 
dom, denial  availed  him  not ;  therefore  father  and 
son  communed  sorrowfully  together,  saying,  '  Which 
of  us  two  shall  go  1 ' 

"I  am  an  old  man,"  said  the  father,  ''and  shall 
leave  no  one  to  lament  me.  I  will  go,  therefore. 
Do  you  remain  here,  my  son,  and  reign  according  as 
it  is  appointed." 

" '  0  Tangari,'  exclaimed  the  son,  '  verily  this 
is  not  as  it  should  be !  Thou  hast  brought  me  up 
with  care,  0  my  father !     If  the  Chan  and  the  wife 


60  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

of  the  Chan  remain,  what  need  is  there  of  their  son  ? 
I  then  will  go,  and  be  as  a  feast  for  the  frogs.' 

"  Thus  spake  he,  and  the  people  walked  sorrow- 
fully round  about  him,  and  then  betook  themselves 
back  again.  Now  the  son  of  the  Chan  had  for  his 
companion  the  son  of  a  poor  man,  and  he  went  to 
him  and  said,  '  Walk  ye  according  to  the  will  of  your 
parents,  and  remain  at  home  in  peace  and  safety. 
I  am  going,  for  the  good  of  the  kingdom,  to  serve 
as  a  sacrifice  to  the  frogs.'  At  these  words  the  son 
of  the  poor  man  said,  weeping  and  lamenting,  '  From 
my  youth  up,  0  Chan,  thou  hast  carefully  fostered 
me.     I  will  go  with  thee,  and  share  thy  fate." 

"  Then  they  both  arose  and  went  unto  the  frogs  ; 
and  on  the  verge  of  the  marsh  they  heard  the  yellow 
frog  and  the  blue  frog  conversing  with  one  another. 
And  the  frogs  said,  '  If  the  son  of  the  Chan  and  his 
companion  did  but  know  that  if  they  only  smote  off 
our  heads  with  the  sword,  and  the  son  of  the  Chan 
consumed  me,  the  yellow  frog,  and  the  son  of  the 
poor  man  consumed  thee,  the  blue  frog,  they  would 
both  cast  out  from  their  mouths  gold  and  brass, 
then  would  the  country  be  no  longer  compelled  to 
find  food  for  frogs.' 

"  Now,  because  the  son  of  the  Chan  understood  all 
sorts  of  languages,  he  comprehended  the  discourse 
of  the  frogs,  and  he  and  his  companion  smote  the 
heads  of  the  frogs  with  their  swords ;  and  when 
they  had  devoured  the  frogs,  they  threw  out  from 


THE   RELATIONS   OF   SSIDI   KUK.  61 

their  mouths  gold  and  brass  at  their  heart's  pleasure. 
Then  said  the  wanderers,  '  The  frogs  are  both  slain 
— the  course  of  the  waters  will  be  hemmed  in  no 
more.  Let  us  then  turn  back  unto  our  own  country.' 
But  the  son  of  the  Chan  agreed  not  to  this,  and 
said,  '  Let  us  not  turn  back  into  our  own  country, 
lest  they  say  they  are  become  spirits ;  therefore  it 
is  better  that  we  journey  further.' 

"  As  they  thereupon  were  walking  over  a  moun- 
tain, they  came  to  a  tavern,  in  which  dwelt  two 
women,  beautiful  to  behold — mother  and  daughter. 
Then  said  they,  '  We  would  buy  strong  liquor  that 
we  might  drink.'  The  wom.en  replied,  '  What  have 
ye  to  give  in  exchange  for  strong  liquor  1 '  There- 
upon each  of  them  threw  forth  gold  and  brass,  and 
the  women  found  pleasure  therein,  admitted  them 
into  their  dwelling,  gave  them  liquor  in  abundance, 
until  they  became  stupid  and  slept,  took  from  them 
what  they  had,  and  then  turned  them  out  of  doors.' 

"  Now  v/hen  they  awoke  the  son  of  the  Chan  and 
his  companion  travelled  along  a  river  and  arrived 
in  a  wood,  where  they  found  some  children  quarrel- 
ling one  with  another.  '  Wherefore,'  inquired  they, 
*  do  you  thus  dispute  ? ' 

*' '  We  have,'  said  the  children,  '  found  a  cap  in 
this  wood,  and  every  one  desires  to  possess  it.' 

"  '  Of  what  use  is  the  cap  1 ' 

"*The  cap  has  this  wonderful  property,  that 
whosoever  places  it  on  his  head  can  be  seen  neither 


62  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE   TALES. 

by  the  Tangari,  nor  by  men,  nor  by  the  Tschadkurrs ' 
(evil  spirits). 

"  'Now  go  all  of  ye  to  the  end  of  the  forest  and 
run  hither,  and  I  will  in  the  meanwhile  keep  the 
cap,  and  give  it  to  the  first  of  you  who  reaches 
me.' 

"Thus  spoke  the  son  of  the  Chan;  and  the  chil- 
dren ran,  but  they  found  not  the  cap,  for  it  was 
upon  the  head  of  the  Chan.  *  Even  now  it  was 
here,'  said  they,  'and  now  it  is  gone,'  And  after 
they  had  sought  for  it,  but  without  finding  it,  they 
went  away  weeping. 

"  And  the  son  of  the  Chan  and  his  companion 
travelled  onwards,  and  at  last  they  came  to  a  forest 
in  which  they  found  a  body  of  Tschadkurrs  quar- 
relling one  with  another,  and  they  said,  '  Wherefore 
do  ye  thus  quarrel  one  with  another  ? ' 

"  '  I,'  exclaimed  each  of  them,  '  have  made  my- 
self master  of  these  boots.' 

"  '  Of  what  use  are  these  boots  ? '  inquired  the 
son  of  the  Chan. 

"  '  He  who  wears  these  boots,'  replied  the  Tschad- 
kurrs, '  is  conveyed  to  any  country  wherein  he  wishes 
himself.' 

"  '  Now,'  answered  the  son  of  the  Chan,  '  go  all  of 
you  that  way,  and  he  who  first  runs  hither  shall 
obtain  the  boots.' 

"And  the  Tschadkurrs,  when  they  heard  these 
words,  ran  as  they  were  told  ;  but  the  son  of  the  Chan 


THE   RELATIONS   OF   SSIDI   KUK.  63 

had  concealed  the  boots  in  the  bosom  of  his  com- 
panion, who  had  the  cap  upon  his  head.  And  the 
Tschadkurrs  saw  the  boots  no  more ;  they  sought 
them  in  vain,  and  went  their  way. 

"  And  when  they  were  gone,  the  prince  and  his 
companion  drew  on  each  of  them  one  of  the  boots, 
and  they  wished  themselves  near  the  place  of  election 
in  a  Chan's  kingdom.  They  wished  their  journey, 
laid  themselves  down  to  sleep,  and  on  their  awak- 
ing in  the  morning  they  found  themselves  in  the 
hollow  of  a  tree,  right  in  the  centre  of  the  imperial 
place  of  election.  It  was,  moreover,  a  day  for  the 
assembling  of  the  people,  to  throw  a  Baling  (a 
sacred  figure  of  dough  or  paste)  under  the  guidance 
of  the  Tangari.  '  Upon  whose  head  even  the  Baling 
falls,  he  shall  be  our  Chan.'  Thus  spake  they  as 
they  threw  it  up  ;  but  the  tree  caught  the  Baling  of 
Destiny.  *  What  means  this  ^ '  exclaimed  they  all 
with  one  accord.  '  Shall  we  have  a  tree  for  our 
Chan  1 ' 

"  '  Let  us  examine,'  cried  they  one  to  another, 
*  whether  the  tree  concealeth  any  stranger.'  And  when 
they  approached  the  tree  the  son  of  the  Chan  and 
his  companion  stepped  forth.  But  the  people  stood 
yet  in  doubt,  and  said  one  to  another  thus,  '  Whoso- 
ever ruleth  over  the  people  of  this  land,  this  shall  be 
decided  to-morrow  morning  by  what  proceedeth 
from  their  mouths.'  And  when  they  had  thus 
spoken,  they  all  took  their  departure. 


6-1:  ORIENTAL   FOLKLOKE   TALES. 

"  On  the  following  morning  some  drank  water, 
and  what  they  threw  from  their  mouths  was  white ; 
others  ate  grass,  and  what  they  threw  from  their 
months  was  green.  In  short,  one  threw  one  thing, 
and  another  another  thing.  But  because  the  son 
of  the  Chan  and  his  companion  cast  out  from  their 
mouths  gold  and  brass,  the  people  cried,  '  Let  the 
one  be  Chan  of  this  people — let  the  other  be  his 
minister.'  Thus  were  they  nominated  Chan  and 
minister  !  And  the  daughter  of  the  former  Chan 
was  appointed  the  wife  of  the  new  Chan. 

"  Now  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  palace  wherein 
the  Chan  dwelt  was  a  lofty  building,  whither  the 
wife  of  the  Chan  betook  herself  every  day.  '  Where- 
fore/ thought  the  minister,  'does  the  wife  of  the 
Chan  betake  herself  to  this  spot  every  day  % '  Thus 
thinking,  he  placed  the  wonderful  cap  upon  his  head, 
and  followed  the  Chan's  wife  through  the  open 
doors,  up  one  step  after  another,  up  to  the  roof. 
Here  the  wife  of  the  Chan  gathered  together  silken 
coverlets  and  pillows,  made  ready  various  drinks  and 
delicate  meats,  and  burnt  for  their  perfume  tapers 
and  frankincense.  The  minister  being  concealed  by 
his  cap,  which  made  him  invisible,  seated  himself 
by  the  side  of  the  Chan's  wife,  and  looked  around 
on  every  side, 

"  Shortly  afterwards  a  beautiful  bird  swept  through 
the  sky.  The  wife  of  the  Chan  received  it  with 
fragrance-giving   tapers.       The    bird    seated    itself 


THE   RELATIONS   OF   SSIDI   KUR.  65 

upon  the  roof  and  twittered  with  a  pleasing  voice ; 
but  out  of  the  bird  came  Solangdu,  the  Son  of  the 
T^ngari,  whose  beauty  w^as  incomparable,  and  he 
laid  himself  on  the  silken  coverlets  and  fed  of  the 
dainties  prepared  for  him.  Then  spake  the  son  of 
the  Tangari,  '  Thou  hast  passed  this  morning  with 
the  husband  whom  thy  fate  has  allotted  to  thee. 
What  thinkest  thou  of  him  1 '  The  wife  of  the  Chan 
answered,  '  I  know  too  little  of  the  prince  to  speak 
of  his  good  qualities  or  his  defects.'  Thus  passed 
the  day,  and  the  wife  of  the  Chan  returned  home 
again. 

"  On  the  following  day  the  minister  followed  the 
wife  of  the  Chan  as  he  had  done  before,  and  heard 
the  son  of  the  Tangari  say  unto  her,  '  To-morrow  I 
will  come  like  a  bird  of  Paradise  to  see  thine 
husband.'  And  the  wife  of  the  Chan  said,  *Be 
it  so.' 

"  The  day  passed  over,  and  the  minister  said  to 
the  Chan,  'In  yonder  palace  lives  Solangdu,  the 
beauteous  son  of  the  Tangari.'  The  minister  then 
related  all  that  he  had  witnessed,  and  said,  '  To- 
morrow early  the  son  of  the  Tangari  will  seek  thee, 
disguised  like  a  bird  of  Paradise.  I  will  seize  the 
bird  by  the  tail,  and  cast  him  into  the  fire ;  but  you 
must  smite  him  in  pieces  with  the  sword.' 

"On  the  following  morning,  the  Chan  and  the 
wife  of  the  Chan  were  seated  together,  when  the 
son   of  the    Tangari,  transformed   into   a  bird    of 

Oriental.  ^ 


Q6         .  ORIENTAL   FOLKLOEE   TALES. 

Paradise,  appeared  before  them  on  the  steps  that 
led  to  the  palace.  The  wife  of  the  Chan  greeted 
the  bird  with  looks  expressive  of  pleasure,  but  the 
minister,  who  had  on  his  invisible-making  cap, 
seized  the  bird  suddenly  by  the  tail,  and  cast  him 
into  the  fire.  And  the  Chan  smote  at  Irim  violently 
with  his  sword ;  but  the  wife  of  the  Chan  seized 
the  hand  of  her  husband,  so  that  only  the  wings  of 
the  bird  were  scorched.  '  Alas,  poor  bird  !  '  ex- 
claimed the  wife  of  the  Chan,  as,  half  dead,  it  made 
its  way,  as  well  as  it  could,  through  the  air. 

"  On  the  next  morning  the  wife  of  the  Chan 
went  as  usual  to  the  lofty  building,  and  this  time, 
too,  did  the  minister  follow  her.  She  collected  to- 
gether, as  usual,  the  silken  pillows,  but  waited 
longer  than  she  was  wont,  and  sat  watching  with 
staring  eyes.  At  length  the  bird  approached  with 
a  very  sIoav  flight,  and  came  down  from  the  bird- 
'house  covered  with  blood  and  wounds,  and  the  wife 
of  the  Chan  wept  at  the  sight.  '  Weep  not,'  said 
the  son  of  the  Tangari ;  '  thine  husband  has  a  heavy 
hand.  The  fire  has  so  scorched  me  that  I  can 
never  come  more.' 

"  Thus  spoke  he,  and  the  wife  of  the  Chan  re- 
plied, *  Do  not  say  so,  but  come  as  you  are  wont  to 
do,  at  least  come  on  the  day  of  the  full  moon.' 
Then  the  son  of  the  Tangari  flew  up  to  the  sky 
again,  and  the  wife  of  the  Chan  began  from  that 
time  to  love  her  husband  with  her  whole  heart. 


THE   RELATIONS   OF   SSIDI  KUR.  67 

"Then  the  minister  placed  his  wonderful  cap 
upon  his  head,  and,  drawing  near  to  a  pagoda,  he 
saw,  through  the  crevice  of  the  door,  a  man,  who 
spread  out  a  figure  of  an  ass,  rolled  himself  over 
and  over  upon  the  figure,  thereupon  took  upon  him- 
self the  form  of  an  ass,  and  ran  up  and  down  bray- 
ing like  one.  Then  he  began  rolling  afresh,  and 
appeared  in  his  human  form.  At  last  he  folded  up 
the  paper,  and  placed  it  in  the  hand  of  a  burchan 
(a  Calmuc  idol).  And  when  the  man  came  out  the 
minister  went  in,  procured  the  paper,  and  remem- 
bering the  ill-treatment  which  he  had  formerly  re- 
ceived, he  went  to  the  mother  and  daughter  who 
had  sold  him  the  strong  liquor,  and  said,  with 
crafty  words,  '  I  am  come  to  you  to  reward  you  for 
your  good  deeds.'  With  these  words  he  gave  the 
women  three  pieces  of  gold ;  and  the  women  asked 
him,  saying,  '  Thou  art,  indeed,  an  honest  man,  but 
where  did  you  procure  so  much  gold  1 '  Then  the 
minister  answered,  'By  merely  rolling  backwards 
and  forwards  over  this  paper  did  I  procure  this 
gold.'  On  hearing  these  words,  the  women  said, 
'Grant  us  that  we  too  may  roll  upon  it.'  And 
they  did  so,  and  were  changed  into  asses.  And  the 
minister  brought  the  asses  to  the  Chan,  and  the 
Chan  said,  'Let  them  be  employed  in  carrying 
stones  and  earth.' 

"  Thus  spake  he,  and  for  three  years  were  these 
two  asses  compelled  to  carry  stones  and  earth ;  and 


68  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

their  backs  were  sore  wounded,  and  covered  with 
bruises.  Then  saw  the  Chan  their  eyes  filled  with 
tears,  and  he  said  to  the  minister,  'Torment  the 
poor  brutes  no  longer.' 

"Thereupon  they  rolled  upon  the  paper,  and 
after  they  had  done  so  they  were  changed  to  two 
shrivelled  women." 

"Poor  creatures!"  exclaimed  the  Son  of  the  Chan. 
Ssidi  replied,  "  Ruler  of  Destiny,  thou  hast  spoken 
words  :  Ssarwala  missdood  jakzank  !  "  Thus  spoke 
he,  and  flew  out  of  the  sack  through  the  air. 

And  Ssidi's  second  relation  treats  of  the  adven- 
tures of  the  Poor  Man's  Son, 


The  Adventures  of  Massang. 

When  the  Son  of  the  Chan  arrived  at  the  foot  of 
the  amiri-tree,  and  spoke  as  he  had  formerly  done, 
Ssidi  approached  him,  sufl*ered  himself  to  be  placed 
in  the  sack,  fastened  with  the  rope,  and  carried 
away.  Ssidi  spoke  as  before,  but  the  Son  of  the 
Chan  shook  his  head,  whereupon  Ssidi  began  as 
follows  : — 

"  A  long  time  ago  there  lived  in  a  certain  country 
a  poor  man,  who  had  nothing  in  the  world  but  one 
cow  j  and  because  there  was  no  chance  of  the  cow's 
calving,  he  was  sore  grieved,  and  said,  'If  my  cow 
does  not  have  a  calf,  I  shall  have  no  more  milk,  and 
T  must  then  die  of  hunger  and  thirst.' 


THE   RELATIONS   OF   SSIDI   KUR.  69 

"But  when  a  certain  number  of  moons  had 
passed,  instead  of  the  calf  the  poor  man  had  looked 
for  he  found  a  man  with  horns,  and  with  a  long 
tail  like  a  cow.  And  at  the  sight  of  this  monster 
the  owner  of  the  beast  was  filled  with  vexation,  and 
he  lifted  up  his  staff  to  kill  him ;  but  the  horned 
man  said,  *  Kill  me  not,  father,  and  your  mercy  shall 
be  rewarded.' 

"And  with  these  words  he  retreated  into  the 
depth  of  a  forest,  and  there  he  found  among  the 
trees  a  man  of  sable  hue.  '  Who  art  thou  ? '  in- 
quired Massang  the  horned.  'I  was  born  of  the 
forest,'  was  the  reply,  '  and  am  called  Iddar.  I  will 
follow  thee  whithersoever  thou  goest.' 

"  And  they  journeyed  forth  together,  and  at  last 
they  reached  a  thickly-covered  grassy  plain,  and 
there  they  beheld  a  green  man.  '  Who  art  thou  1 ' 
inquired  they.  '  I  was  born  of  the  grass,'  replied 
the  green  man,  '  and  will  bear  thee  company.' 

*' Thereupon  they  all  three  journeyed  forth  to- 
gether, until  they  came  to  a  sedgy  marsh,  and  there 
they  found  a  white  man.  '  Who  art  thou  1 '  in- 
quired they.  '  I  was  born  of  the  sedges,'  replied  the 
white  man,  '  and  will  bear  thee  company.' 

"Thereupon  they  all  four  journeyed  forth  to- 
gether, until  they  reached  a  desert  country,  where, 
in  the  very  depths  of  the  mountain,  they  found  a 
hut;  and  because  they  found  plenty  both  to  eat 
and  to  drink  in  the  hut,  they  abode  there.     Every 


70  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

day  three  of  them  went  out  hunting,  and  left  the 
fourth  in  charge  of  the  hut.  On  the  first  day, 
Iddar,  the  Son  of  the  Forest,  remained  in  the  hut, 
and  was  busied  preparing  milk,  and  cooking  meat 
for  his  companions,  when  a  little  old  woman  put  up 
the  ladder  and  came  in  at  the  door.  'Who's 
there  ? '  exclaimed  Iddar,  and,  upon  looking  round, 
he  beheld  an  old  woman  about  a  span  high,  who 
carried  on  her  back  a  little  sack.  *  Oh,  what,  there 
is  somebody  sitting  there"?'  said  the  old  woman, 
'  and  you  are  cooking  meat ;  let  me,  I  beseech  you, 
taste  a  little  milk  and  a  little  meat.* 

"  And  though  she  merely  tasted  a  little  of  each, 
the  whole  of  the  food  disappeared.  "When  the  old 
woman  thereupon  took  her  departure,  the  Son  of 
the  Forest  was  ashamed  that  the  food  had  disap- 
peared, and  he  arose  and  looked  out  of  the  hut. 
And  as  he  chanced  to  perceive  two  hoofs  of  a  horse, 
he  made  with  them  a  number  of  horse's  footmarks 
around  the  dwelling,  and  shot  an  arrow  into  the 
court ;  and  when  the  hunters  returned  home  and 
inquired  of  him,  *  Where  is  the  milk  and  the  fatted 
meat?'  he  answered  them,  saying,  *  There  came  a 
hundred  horsemen,  who  pressed  their  way  into  the 
house,  and  took  the  milk  and  the  flesh,  and  they 
have  beaten  me  almost  to  death.  Go  ye  out,  and 
look  around.'  And  his  companions  went  out  when 
they  heard  these  words,  looked  around,  saw  the 
prints  of  the  horses'  feet  and  the  arrow  which  he 


THE    RELATIONS   OF   SSIDI    KUE.  71 

himself  had  shot,  and  said,  'The  words  which  he 
spoke  are  true.' 

"  On  the  following  day  the  Son  of  the  Grass 
remained  at  home  in  the  hut,  and  it  befell  him  as  it 
had  befallen  his  companion  on  the  previous  day. 
But  because  he  perceived  the  feet  of  two  bullocks, 
he  made  with  them  the  marks  of  the  feet  of  many 
bullocks  around  the  dwelling,  and  said  to  his  com- 
panions, 'There  came  a  hundred  people  with  laden 
bullocks,  and  robbed  me  of  the  food  I  had  prepared 
for  you.' 

"Thus  spake  he  falsely.  On  the  third  day  the 
Son  of  the  Sedges  remained  at  home  in  the  hut,  and 
because  he  met  with  no  better  fortune,  he  made, 
with  a  couple  of  the  feet  of  a  mule,  a  number  of 
prints  of  mules'  feet  around  the  dwelling,  and  said 
to  his  companions,  '  A  hundred  men  with  laden 
mules  surrounded  the  house,  and  robbed  me  of  the 
food  I  had  prepared  for  you.' 

"  Thus  spake  he  falsely.  On  the  following  day 
Massang  remained  at  home  in  the  hut,  and  as  he  was 
sitting  preparing  milk  and  flesh  for  his  companions, 
the  little  old  woman  stepped  in  as  before  and  said, 
'  Oh,  so  there  is  somebody  here  this  time  ?  Let  me, 
I  pray  you,  taste  a  little  of  the  milk  and  a  little  of 
the  meat.'  At  these  words  Massang  considered, 
'  Of  a  certainty  this  old  woman  has  been  here  before. 
If  I  do  what  she  requires  of  me,  how  do  I  know 
that   there  will  be  any  left?'     And    having  thus 


72  OEIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

considered,  he  said  to  the  old  woman,  '  Old  woman, 
before  thou  tastest  food,  fetch  me  some  water.'  Thus 
spoke  he,  giving  her  a  bucket,  of  which  the  bottom 
was  drilled  full  of  holes,  to  fetch  water  in.  When 
the  old  woman  was  gone,  Massang  looked  after  her, 
and  found  that  the  span-high  old  woman,  reaching 
now  up  to  the  skies,  drew  the  bucket  full  of  water- 
again  and  again,  but  that  none  of  the  water  remained 
in  it.  While  she  was  thus  occupied,  Massang  peeped 
into  the  little  sack  which  she  carried  on  her 
shoulders,  and  took  out  of  it  a  coil  of  rope,  an  iron 
hammer,  and  a  pair  of  iron  pincers,  and  put  in 
their  place  some  very  rotten  cords,  a  wooden 
hammer,  and  wooden  pincers. 

"  He  had  scarcely  done  so  before  the  old  woman 
returned,  saying,  'I  cannot  draw  water  in  your 
bucket.  If  you  will  not  give  me  a  little  of  your 
food  to  taste,  let  us  try  our  strength  against  each 
other.'  Then  the  old  woman  drew  forth  the  coil  of 
rotten  cords,  and  bound  Massang  with  them,  but 
Massang  put  forth  his  strength  and  burst  the  cords 
asunder.  But  when  Massansr  had  bound  the  old 
woman  with  her  own  coil,  and  deprived  her  of  all 
power  of  motion,  she  said  unto  him,  '  Herein  thou 
hast  gotten  the  victory ;  now  let  us  pinch  each  other 
with  the  pincers.' 

"  Whereupon  Massang  nipped  hold  of  a  piece  of 
the  old  woman's  flesh  as  big  as  one's  head,  and  tore 
it  forcibly  from  her.     '  Indeed,  youth,'  cried  the  old 


THE  RELATIONS   OF   SSIDI   KUR.  73 

woman,  sighing,  'but  thou  hast  gotten  a  hand  of 
stone ;  now  let  us  hammer  away  at  each  other  ! ' 

"  So  saying,  she  smote  Massang  with  the  wooden 
hammer  on  his  breast,  but  the  hammer  flew  from 
the  handle,  and  Massang  was  left  without  a  wound. 
Then  drew  Massang  the  iron  hammer  out  of  the 
fire,  and  smote  the  old  woman  with  it  in  such  wise 
that  she  fled  from  the  hut  crying  and  wounded. 

"  Shortly  after  this,  the  three  companions  returned 
home,  and  said  to  Massang,  '  Now,  Massang,  thou 
hast  surely  had  something  to  suff"er  1 '  But  Massang 
replied,  '  Ye  are  all  cow^ardly  fellows,  and  have 
uttered  lies ;  I  have  paid  olT  the  old  woman.  Arise, 
and  let  us  follow  her  ! ' 

"  At  these  words  they  arose,  followed  her  by 
the  traces  of  her  blood,  and  at  length  reached  a 
gloomy  pit  in  a  rock.  At  the  bottom  of  this  pit 
there  were  ten  double  circular  pillars,  and  on  the 
ground  lay  the  corpse  of  the  old  woman,  among  gold, 
brass,  and  armour,  and  other  costly  things.  '  Will 
you  three  descend,'  said  Massang,  '  and  then  pack 
together  the  costly  things,  and  I  will  draw  them  up, 
or  I  will  pack  them,  and  you  shall  draw  them  out.' 
But  the  three  companions  said,  'We  will  not  go 
down  into  the  cavern,  for  of  a  verity  the  old  woman 
is  a  Schumnu '  (a  witch).  But  Massang,  without 
being  dispirited,  allowed  himself  to  be  let  down 
into  the  cavern,  and  collected  the  valuables,  which 
were  then  drawn  forth  by  his  companions.     Then 


74  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

his  companions  spoke  with  one  another,  saying,  '  If 
we  draw  forth  Massang,  he  will  surely  take  all  these 
treasures  to  himself.  It  were  better,  then,  that  we 
should  carry  away  these  treasures,  and  leave  Massang 
behind  in  the  cavern  ! ' 

"  When  Massang  noticed  that  his  three  companions 
treated  him  thus  ungratefully,  he  looked  about  the 
cavern  in  search  of  food,  but  between  the  pillars  he 
found  nothing  but  some  pieces  of  bark.  Thereupon 
Massang  planted  the  bark  in  the  earth,  nourished 
it  as  best  he  might,  and  said,  *If  I  am  a  true 
Massang,  then  from  this  bark  let  there  grow  forth 
three  great  trees.  If  I  am  not,  then  shall  I  die 
here  in  this  pit.' 

"  After  these  enchanting  words,  he  laid  himself 
down,  but  from  his  having  come  in  contact  with  the 
corse  of  the  old  woman,  he  slept  for  many  years. 
When  he  awoke,  he  found  three  great  trees  which 
reached  to  the  mouth  of  the  pit.  Joyfully  clambered 
he  up  and  betook  himself  to  the  hut,  which  was  in 
the  neighbourhood.  But,  because  there  was'  no 
longer  any  one  to  be  found  therein,  he  took  his  iron 
bow  and  his  arrows,  and  set  forth  in  search  of  his 
companions.  These  had  built  themselves  houses 
and  taken  wives.  'Where  are  your  husbands?' 
inquired  Massang  of  their  wives.  '  Our  husbands 
are  gone  to  the  chase,'  replied  they.  Then  Massang 
took  arrow  and  bow,  and  set  forth.  His  companions 
were  returning  from  the  chase  with   venison,  and 


THE   RELATIONS   OF   SSIDI   KUR.  75 

when  they  beheld  Massang  with  arrow  and  bow, 
they  cried,  as  with  one  accord,  'Thou  art  the 
well-skilled  one !  take  thou  our  wives  and  pro- 
perty, we  will  now  wander  forth  further !  '  At 
these  words  Massang  said,  '  Your  behaviour  was 
certainly  not  what  it  should  have  been ;  but  I  am 
going  to  reward  my  father — live  on,  therefore,  as 
before/ 

"  By  the  way  Massang  discovered  a  brook,  and 
out  of  the  brook  arose  a  beautiful  maiden.  The 
maiden  went  her  way,  and  flowers  arose  out  of  her 
footsteps.  Massang  followed  the  maiden  until  he 
arrived  in  heaven,  and  when  he  was  come  there, 
Churmusta  Tangari  (the  Protector  of  the  Earth) 
said  unto  him,  '  It  is  well  that  thou  art  come  hither, 
Massang.  We  have  daily  to  fight  with  the  host  of 
Schumnu  (witches).  To-morrow  look  around ;  after 
to-morrow  be  companion  unto  us.' 

"  On  the  following  day,  when  the  white  host  were 
sore  pressed  by  the  black,  Churmusta  spake  unto 
Massang :  '  The  white  host  are  the  host  of  the 
Tangari,  the  black  are  the  host  of  the  Schumnu. 
To-day  the  Tangari  will  be  pressed  by  the  Schumnu ; 
draw,  therefore,  thy  bow,  and  send  an  arrow  into  the 
eye  of  the  leader  of  the  black  host.'  Then  Massang 
aimed  at  the  eye  of  the  leader  of  the  black  host, 
and  smote  him,  so  that  he  fled  with  a  mighty  cry. 
Then  spake  Churmusta  to  Massang,  "  Thy  deed  is 
deserving  of  reward ;  henceforward  dwell  with  us 


76  OKIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

for  ever.'  But  Massang  replied,  '  I  go  to  reward  my 
father.' 

"Hereupon  Churmusta  presented  to  Massang, 
Dscliindamani,  the  wonder-stone  of  the  Gods,  and 
said  unto  him,  '  By  a  narrow  circuitous  path  you 
will  reach  the  cave  of  the  Schumnu.  Go  without 
fear  or  trembling  therein.  Knock  at  the  door  and 
say,  "  I  am  the  human  physician."  They  will  then 
lead  thee  to  the  Schumnu  Chan,  that  you  may  draw 
out  the  arrow  from  his  eyes ;  then  lay  hands  upon 
the  arrow,  scatter  seven  sorts  of  grain  towards 
heaven,  and  drive  the  arrow  yet  deeper  into  his 
head.' 

"Thus  spake  Churmusta  authoritatively,  and 
Massang  obeyed  his  commands ;  reached,  without 
erring,  the  cavern  of  the  Schumnu,  and  knocked  at 
the  door.  '  What  hast  thou  learned  %  '  inquired  the 
woman.  *I  am  a  physician,'  answered  Massang; 
and  he  was  conducted  into  the  building.  He  ex- 
amined the  wound  of  the  Chan,  and  laid  hands 
upon  the  arrow.  'Already,'  said  the  Chan,  *my 
wound  feels  better.'  But  Massang  suddenly  drove 
the  arrow  further  into  the  head,  scattered  the  seven 
grains  towards  heaven,  and  a  chain  fell  clattering 
from  heaven  down  to  earth. 

"  But  while  Massang  was  preparing  to  lay  hands 
upon  the  chain,  the  Schumnu  woman  smote  him 
with  an  iron  hammer  with  such  force,  that  from  the 
]>low  there  sprang  forth  seven  stars." 


THE   KELATIONS   OF  SSIDI   KUK.  77 

"  Then,"  said  the  Son  of  the  Chan,  "  he  was  not 
able  to  reward  his  father." 

"  Ruler  of  Destiny,  thou  hast  spoken  words ! 
Ssarwala  missdood  jonkzang."  Thus  spake  Ssidi, 
and  burst  from  the  sack  through  the  air. 

Thus  Ssidi's  third  relation  treats  of  the  adventures 
of  Massang. 


The  Magician  with  the  Swine's  Head. 

When  the  Son  of  the  Chan  had,  as  before,  seized 
upon  Ssidi,  and  was  carrying  him  away,  Ssidi  spoke 
as  formerly,  but  the  Son  of  the  Chan  shook  his 
head,  without  uttering  a  word,  and  Ssidi  began  the 
following  relation  : — 

"  A  long  while  since  there  lived  in  a  happy  country 
a  man  and  a  woman.  The  man  had  many  bad 
qualities,  and  cared  for  nothing  but  eating,  drinking, 
and  sleeping.  At  last  his  wife  said  unto  him,  '  By 
thy  mode  of  life  thou  hast  wasted  all  thine  inherit- 
ance. Arise  thee,  then,  from  thy  bed,  and  while  I 
am  in  the  fields,  go  you  out  and  look  about  you  ! ' 

"As  he,  therefore,  according  to  these  words,  was 
looking  about  him,  he  saw  a  multitude  of  people 
pass  behind  the  pagoda  with  their  herds;  and 
birds,  foxes,  and  dogs  crowding  and  noising  together 
around  a  particular  spot.  Thither  he  went,  and 
there  found  a  bladder  of  butter ;  so  he  took  it  home 


78  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

and  placed  it  upon  the  shelf.  When  his  wife 
returned  and  saw  the  bladder  of  butter  upon  the 
shelf,  she  asked,  '  Where  found  you  this  bladder  of 
butter  1 '  To  this  he  replied,  *  I  did  according  to 
your  word,  and  found  this.'  Then  said  the  woman 
'  Thou  went  out  but  for  an  instant,  and  hast  already 
found  thus  much.' 

"Then  the  man  determined  to  display  his 
abilities,  and  said,  '  Procure  me  then  a  horse,  some 
clothes,  and  a  bloodhound.'  The  wife  provided 
them  accordingly;  and  the  man  taking  with  him, 
besides  these,  his  bow,  cap,  and  mantle,  seated  him- 
self on  horseback,  led  the  hound  in  a  leash,  and  rode 
forth  at  random.  After  he  had  crossed  over  several 
rivers  he  espied  a  fox.  *  Ah,'  thought  he,  '  that 
would  serve  my  wife  for  a  cap.' 

"  So  saying,  he  pursued  the  fox,  and  when  it  fled 
into  a  hamster's  hole,  the  man  got  off  his  horse, 
placed  his  bow,  arrows,  and  clothes  upon  the  saddle, 
fastened  the  bloodhound  to  the  bridle,  and  covered 
the  mouth  of  the  hole  with  his  cap.  The  next 
thing  he  did  was  to  take  a  large  stone,  and  hammer 
over  the  hole  with  it ;  this  frightened  the  fox,  which 
ran  out  and  fled  with  the  cap  upon  its  head.  The 
hound  followed  the  fox,  and  drew  the  horse  along 
with  it,  so  that  they  both  vanished  in  an  instant, 
and  the  man  w^as  left  without  any  clothes. 

After  he  had  turned  back  a  long  waj,  he  reached 
the  country  of  a  mighty  Chan,  entered  the  Chan's 


THE    RELATIONS   OF   SSIDI   KUR.  79 

stable,  and  concealed  himself  in  a  stack  of  hay,  so 
that  merely  his  eyes  were  left  uncovered.  Not  long 
afterwards,  the  beloved  of  the  Chan  was  walking 
out,  and  wishing  to  look  at  a  favourite  horse,  she 
approached  close  to  the  hayrick,  placed  the  talisman 
of  life  of  the  Chan's  kingdom  upon  the  ground,  left 
it  there,  and  returned  back  to  the  palace  without 
recollecting  it.  The  man  saw  the  wonderful  stone, 
but  was  too  lazy  to  pick  it  up.  At  sunset  the  cows 
came  by,  and  the  stone  was  beaten  into  the  ground. 
Some  time  afterwards  a  servant  came  and  cleansed 
the  place,  and  the  wonderful  stone  was  cast  aside 
upon  a  heap. 

"  On  the  following  day  the  people  were  informed, 
by  the  beating  of  the  kettledrums,  that  the  beloved 
of  the  Chan  had  lost  the  wonderful  stone.  At  the 
same  time,  all  the  magicians  and  soothsayers  and 
interpreters  of  signs  were  summoned,  and  questioned 
upon  the  subject.  On  hearing  this,  the  man  in  the 
hayrick  crept  out  as  far  as  his  breast,  and  when  the 
people  thronged  around  him  and  asked,  '  What  hast 
thou  learned  ^ '  he  replied,  '  I  am  a  magician.'  On 
hearing  these  words  they  exclaimed,  'Because  the 
wondrous  stone  of  the  Chan  is  missing,  all  the 
magicians  in  the  country  are  summoned  to  appear 
before  him.  Do  you  then  draw  nigh  unto  the  Chan.' 
The  man  said,  '  I  have  no  clothes.'  Hereupon  the 
whole  crowd  hastened  to  the  Chan,  and  announced 
unto   him   thus :    '  In   the    hayrick   there   lieth   a 


80  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE  TALES. 

magician  who  has  no  clothes.  This  magician  would 
draw  nigh  unto  you,  but  he  has  nought  to  appear 
in.'  The  Chan  said,  '  Send  unto  him  this  robe  of 
cloth,  and  let  him  approach.'     It  was  done. 

"  The  man  was  fetched,  and  after  he  had  bowed 
down  to  the  Chan,  he  was  asked  what  he  needed 
for  the  performance  of  his  magic  charms.  To  this 
question  he  replied,  'For  the  performance  of  my 
magic  charms,  it  is  needful  that  I  should  have  the 
head  of  a  swine,  some  cloths  of  five  colours,  and 
some  baling '  (a  sacred  figure  of  dough  or  paste). 
When  all  these  things  were  prepared,  the  magician 
deposited  the  swine's  head  at  the  foot  of  a  tree, 
dressed  it  with  the  cloths  of  five  colours,  fastened 
on  the  large  baling,  and  passed  the  whole  of  three 
nights  in  meditation.  On  the  day  appointed,  all 
the  people  assembled,  and  the  magician  having  put 
on  a  great  durga  (cloak),  placed  himself,  with  the 
swine's  head  in  his  hand,  in  the  street.  When  they 
were  all  assembled  together,  the  magician,  showing 
the  swine's  head,  said,  '  Here  not  and  there  not.' 
All  were  gladdened  at  hearing  these  words.  '  Be- 
cause, therefore,'  said  the  magician,  '  the  wonderful 
stone  is  not  to  be  found  among  the  people,  we  must 
seek  for  it  elsewhere.' 

"  With  these  words  the  magician,  still  holding 
the  swine's  head  in  his  hand,  drew  nigh  unto  the 
palace,  and  the  Chan  and  his  attendants  followed 
him,  singing  songs  of  rejoicing.     When,  at  last,  the 


THE   RELATIONS    OF   SSIDI   KUK.  81 

magician  arrived  at  the  heap,  he  stood  suddenly 
still,  and  exclaimed,  '  There  lies  the  wonderful 
stone.'  Then,  first  removing  some  of  the  earth,  he 
drew  forth  the  stone,  and  cleansed  it.  '  Thou  art  a 
mighty  magician,'  joyfully  exclaimed  all  who  beheld 
it.  '  Thou  art  the  master  of  magic  with  the  swine's 
head.  Lift  up  thyself  that  thou  mayest  receive  thy 
reward.'  The  Chan  said,  *Thy  reward  shall  be 
whatsoever  thou  wilt.'  The  magician,  who  thought 
only  of  the  property  he  had  lost,  said,  '  Give  unto 
me  a  horse,  with  saddle  and  bridle,  a  bow  and 
arrows,  a  cap,  a  mantle,  a  hound,  and  a  fox.  Such 
things  give  unto  me.'  At  these  words  the 
Chan  exclaimed,  '  Give  him  all  that  he  desireth.' 
This  was  done,  and  the  magician  returned  home 
with  all  that  he  desired,  and  with  two  elephants, 
one  carrying  meat,  and  the  other  butter. 

"  His  wife  met  him  close  to  his  dwelling,  with 
brandy  for  him  to  drink,  and  said,  '  ISTow,  indeed, 
thou  art  become  a  mighty  man.'  Thereupon  they 
went  into  the  house,  and  when  they  had  laid  them- 
selves dov/n  to  sleep,  the  wife  said  to  him,  '  Where 
hast  thou  found  so  much  flesh  and  so  much  butter  % ' 
Then  her  husband  related  to  her  circumstantially 
the  whole  affair,  and  she  answered  him  saying^ 
'Verily,  thou  art  a  stupid  ass.  To-morrow  I  will 
go  with  a  letter  to  the  Chan.' 

"  The  wife  accordingly  wrote  a  letter,  and  in  the 
letter  were  the  following  words : — '  Because  it  was 

Oriental,  ^ 


82  OEIE^'TAL   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

known  unto  me  that  the  lost  wondrous  stone  retained 
some  evil  influence  over  the  Chan,  I  have,  for  the 
obviating  of  that  influence,  desired  of  him  the  dog 
and  the  fox.  What  I  may  receive  for  my  reward 
depends  upon  the  pleasure  of  the  Chan.' 

"  The  Chan  read  the  letter  through,  and  sent 
costly  presents  to  the  magician.  And  the  magician 
lived  pleasantly  and  happily. 

"Now  in  a  neighbouring  country  there  dwelt 
seven  Chans,  brethren.  Once  upon  a  time  they 
betook  themselves,  for  pastime,  to  an  extensive 
forest,  and  there  they  discovered  a  beauteous  maiden 
with  a  bufialo,  and  they  asked,  '  What  are  you  two 
doing  here  ?  Whence  come  you  1 '  The  maiden 
answered,  '  I  come  from  an  eastern  country,  and  am 
the  daughter  of  a  Chan.  This  buff'alo  accompanies 
me.'  At  these  words  these  others  replied,  '  We  are 
the  seven  brethren  of  a  Chan,  and  have  no  wife. 
Wilt  thou  be  our  wife  1 '  ^  The  maiden  answered, 
'  So  be  it.'  But  the  maiden  and  the  bufl'alo  were 
two  Mangusch  (a  species  of  evil  spirit  like  the 
Schumnu),  and  were  seeking  out  men  whom  they 
might  devour.  The  male  Mangusch  was  a  buffalo, 
and  the  female,  she  who  became  wife  to  the 
brethren. 

"After  the  Mangusch  had  slain,  yearly,  one  of 
tiie  brethren  of  the   Chan,  there   was  only  one  re- 

^  It  is  iu  accordance  with  the  customs  of  Thibet  for  a 
woman  of  that  country  to  have  several  husbands. 


THE   RELATIONS   OF   SSIDI   KUR.  83 

maining.  And  because  he  was  sufifering  from  a 
grievous  sickness,  the  ministers  consulted  together 
and  said,  '  For  the  sickness  of  the  other  Chans  we 
have  tried  all  means  of  cure,  and  yet  have  found  no 
help,  neither  do  we  in  this  case  know  what  to 
advise.  But  the  magician  with  the  swine's  head 
dwells  only  two  mountains  off  from  us,  and  he  is 
held  in  great  estimation ;  let  us,  without  further 
delay,  send  for  him  to  our  assistance.' 

"  Upon  this  four  mounted  messengers  were  de- 
spatched for  the  magician,  and  when  they  arrived 
at  his  dwelling,  they  made  known  to  him  the  object 
of  their  mission.  '  I  will,'  said  the  magician,  '  con- 
sider of  this  matter  in  the  course  of  the  night,  and 
will  tell  you  in  the  morning  what  is  to  be  done.' 

"  During  the  night  he  related  to  his  wife  what 
was  required  of  him,  and  his  wife  said,  '  You  are 
looked  upon,  up  to  this  time,  as  a  magician  of 
extraordinary  skill ;  but  from  this  time  there  is  an 
end  to  your  reputation.  However,  it  cannot  be 
helped,  so  go  you  must.' 

"On  the  following  morning  the  magician  said 
to  the  messengers,  '  During  the  night-time  I  have 
pondered  upon  this  matter,  and  a  good  omen  has 
presented  itself  to  me  in  a  dream.  Let  me  not 
tarry  any  longer  but  ride  forth  to-day.'  The 
magician,  thereupon,  equipped  himself  in  a  large 
cloak,  bound  his  hair  together  on  the  crown  of  his 
head,  carried  in  his  left  hand  the  rosary,  and  in  his 


84  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

right  the  swine's  head,  enveloped  in  the  cloths  of 
five  colours. 

"  When  in  this  guise  he  presented  himself  before 
the  dwelling-place  of  the  Chan,  the  two  Mangusch 
were  sorely  frightened,  and  thought  to  themselves, 
*This  man  has  quite  the  appearance,  quite  the 
countenance,  of  a  man  of  learning.'  Then  the 
magician,  first  placing  a  baling  on  the  pillow  of 
the  bed,  lifted  up  the  swine's  head,  and  muttered 
certain  magic  words. 

"  The  wife  of  the  Chan  seeing  this  discontinued 
tormenting  the  soul  of  the  Chan,  and  fled  in  all 
haste  out  of  the  room.  The  Chan,  by  this  conduct 
being  freed  from  the  pains  of  sickness,  sank  into  a 
sound  sleep.  '  What  is  this  ? '  exclaimed  the  magi- 
cian, filled  with  afi'right.  '  The  disease  has  grown 
worse,  the  sick  man  uttereth  not  a  sound  ;  the  sick 
man  hath  departed.'  Thus  thinking,  he  cried, 
*  Chan,  Chan ! '  But  because  the  Chan  uttered  no 
sound,  the  magician  seized  the  swine's  head, 
vanished  through  the  door,  and  entered  the  treasure- 
chamber.  No  sooner  had  he  done  so,  than  '  Thief, 
thief ! '  sounded  in  his  ears,  and  the  magician  fled 
into  the  kitchen;  but  the  cry  of  '  Stop  that  thief! 
stop  that  thief ! '  still  followed  him.  Thus  pursued 
the  magician  thought  to  himself,  '  This  night  it  is 
of  no  use  to  think  of  getting  away,  so  I  will,  there- 
fore, conceal  myself  in  a  corner  of  the  stable.'  Thus 
thinking,  he  opened  the  door,  and  there  found  a 


THE   RELATIONS    OF   SSIDI   KUR.  85 

buffalo,  that  lay  there  as  if  wearied  with  a  long 
journey.  The  magician  took  the  swine's  head,  and 
struck  the  buffalo  three  times  between  the  horns, 
whereupon  the  buffalo  sprang  up  and  fled  like  the 
wind. 

"But  the  magician  followed  after  the  buffalo, 
and  when  he  approached  the  spot  where  he  was,  he 
heard  the  male  Mangusch  say  to  his  female  com- 
panion, 'Yonder  magician  knew  that  I  was  in  the 
stable;  with  his  frightful  swine's  head  he  struck 
me  three  blows — so  that  it  was  time  for  me  to 
escape  from  him.'  And  the  Chan's  wife  replied,  '  I 
too  am  so  afraid,  because  of  his  great  knowledge, 
that  I  would  not  willingly  return ;  for,  of  a  cer- 
tainty, things  will  go  badly  with  us.  To-morrow 
he  will  gather  together  the  men  with  weapons  and 
arms,  and  will  say  unto  the  women,  "  Bring  hither 
firing ;  "  when  this  is  done  he  will  say,  "  Lead  the 
buffalo  hither."  And  when  thou  appearest,  he  will 
say  unto  thee,  "Put  off  the  form  thou  hast  assumed." 
And  because  all  resistance  would  be  useless,  the 
people  perceiving  thy  true  shape  will  fall  upon  thee 
with  swords,  and  spears,  and  stones ;  and  when  they 
have  put  thee  to  death,  they  will  consume  thee 
with  fire.  At  last  the  magician  will  cause  me  to  be 
dragged  forth  and  consumed  with  fire.  Oh,  but  I 
am  sore  afraid  ! ' 

"  When  the  magician  heard  these  words,  he  said 
to  himself,  'After  this  fashion  may  the  thing  be 


86  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

easily  accomplished.'  Upon  this  he  betook  himself, 
with  the  swine's  head  to  the  Chan,  lifted  up  the 
baling,  murmured  his  words  of  magic,  and  asked, 
'  How  is  it  now  with  the  sickness  of  the  Chan  ? ' 
And  the  Chan  replied,  'Upon  the  arrival  of  the 
master  of  magic  the  sickness  passed  away,  and  I 
have  slept  soundly.'  Then  the  magician  spake  as 
follows :  '  To-morrow,  then,  give  this  command  to 
thy  ministers,  that  they  collect  the  whole  of  the 
people  together,  and  that  the  women  be  desired  to 
bring  firing  with  them.' 

"When,  in  obedience  to  these  directions,  there 
were  two  lofty  piles  of  fagots  gathered  together, 
the  magician  said,  '  Place  my  saddle  upon  the 
buffalo.'  Then  the  magician  rode  upon  the  saddled 
buffalo  three  times  around  the  assembled  people, 
then  removed  the  saddle  from  the  buffalo,  smote 
it  three  times  with  the  swine's  head,  and  said, 
'  Put  off  the  form  thou  hast  assumed.' 

"At  these  words  the  buffalo  was  transformed 
into  a  fearful  ugly  Mangusch.  His  eyes  were  blood- 
shot, his  upper  tusks  descended  to  his  breast,  his 
bottom  tusks  reached  up  to  his  eyelashes,  so  that 
he  was  fearful  to  behold.  When  the  people  had 
hewed  this  Mangusch  to  pieces  with  sword  and 
with  arrow,  with  spear  and  with  stone,  and  his 
body  was  consumed  upon  one  of  the  piles  of  fagots, 
then  said  the  magician,  '  Bring  forth  the  wife  of  the 
Chan.'     And  with  loud  cries  did  the  wife  of  the 


THE   RELATIONS    OF   SSIDI   KUR.  87 

Chan  come  forth,  and  the  magician  smote  her  with 
the  swine's  head,  and  said,  '  Appear  in  thine  own 
form  ! '  Immediately  her  long  tusks  and  bloodshot 
eyes  exhibited  the  terrific  figure  of  a  female  Man- 
gusch. 

"After  the  wife  of  the  Chan  had  been  cut  in 
pieces,  and  consumed  by  fire,  the  magician  mounted 
his  horse ;  but  the  people  bowed  themselves  before 
him,  and  streu^ed  grain  over  him,  presented  him 
with  gifts,  and  regaled  him  so  on  every  side,  that 
he  was  only  enabled  to  reach  the  palace  of  the  Chan 
on  the  following  morning.  Then  spake  the  Chan, 
full  of  joy,  to  the  magician,  '  How  can  I  reward  you 
for  the  great  deed  that  thou  hast  done  1 '  And  the 
magician  answered,  '  In  our  country  there  are  but 
few  nose-sticks  for  oxen  to  be  found.  Give  me,  I 
pray  you,  some  of  these  nose-sticks.'  Thus  spake 
he,  and  the  Chan  had  him  conducted  home  with 
three  sacks  of  nose-sticks,  and  seven  elephants 
bearinof  meat  and  butter. 

o 

"Near  unto  his  dwelling  his  wife  came  with 
brandy  to  meet  him;  and  when  she  beheld  the 
elephants,  she  exclaimed.  '  Now,  indeed,  thou  art 
become  a  mighty  man.'  Then  they  betook  them- 
selves to  their  house,  and  at  night-time  the  wife  of 
the  magician  asked  him,  '  How  camest  thou  to  be 
presented  with  such  gifts  1 '  The  magician  replied, 
'I  have  cured  the  sickness  of  the  Chan,  and  con- 
sumed with  fire  two  Mangusch.'     At  these  words 


88  ORIENTAL  FOLKLOKE  TALES. 

she  replied,  *  Verily,  thou  hast  behaved  very  fool- 
ishly. After  such  a  beneficial  act,  to  desire  nothing 
but  nose-sticks  for  cattle !  To-morrow  I  myself 
will  go  to  the  Chan.' 

"  On  the  morrow  the  wife  drew  near  unto  the 
Chan,  and  presented  unto  him  a  letter  from  the 
magician,  and  in  this  letter  stood  the  following 
words  : — '  Because  the  magician  was  aware  that  of 
the  great  evil  of  the  Chan  a  lesser  evil  still  re- 
mained behind,  he  desired  of  him  the  nose-sticks. 
What  he  is  to  receive  as  a  reward  depends  upon  the 
pleasure  of  the  Chan.' 

" '  He  is  right,'  replied  the  Chan,  and  he  sum- 
moned the  magician,  with  his  father  and  mother, 
and  all  his  relations  before  him,  and  received  them 
with  every  demonstration  of  honour.  '  But  for  you 
I  should  have  died ;  the  kingdom  would  have  been 
annihilated ;  the  ministers  and  all  the  people  con- 
sumed as  the  food  of  the  Mangusch.  I,  therefore, 
will  honour  thee,'  and  he  bestowed  upon  him  proofs 
of  his  favour." 

*'  Both  man  and  wife  were  intelligent,"  exclaimed 
the  Son  of  the  Chan. 

"Euler  of  Destiny,"  replied  Ssidi,  "thou  hast 
spoken  words!  Swarwala  missdood  jakzang!"  Thus 
spake  he,  and  burst  from  the  sack  through  the  air. 

Ssidi's  fourth  relation  treats  of  the  Magician  with 
the  head  of  the  Swine, 


THE   RELATIONS   OF   SSIDI   KUR.  89 

The  History  of  Sunshine  and  his  Brother. 

As  the  Chan's  Son  was  journeying  along  as  before, 
laden  with  Ssidi,  Ssidi  inquired  of  him  as  formerly 
who  should  tell  a  tale.  But  the  Son  of  the  Chan 
shook  his  head  without  speaking  a  word,  and  Ssidi 
began  as  follows  : — 

"Many  years  ago  Guchanasschang  reigned  over 
a  certain  happy  land.  This  Chan  had  a  wife  and 
a  son,  whose  name  was  Sunshine  (Narrani  Garral). 
Upon  the  death  of  his  first  wife  the  Chan  married 
a  second ;  and  by  her  likewise  he  had  a  son,  and 
the  name  of  his  second  son  was  Moonshine  (Ssarrani 
Garral).  And  when  both  these  sons  were  grown 
up,  the  wife  of  the  Chan  thought  to  herself,  'So 
long  as  Sunshine,  the  elder  brother,  lives,  Moonshine, 
the  younger,  will  never  be  Chan  over  this  land.' 

"  Some  time  after  this  the  wife  of  the  Chan  fell 
sick,  and  tossed  and  tumbled  about  on  her  bed  from 
the  seeming  agony  she  endured.  And  the  Chan 
inquired  of  her,  '  What  can  be  done  for  you,  my 
noble  spouse  1 '  To  these  words  the  wife  of  the 
Chan  replied,  '  Even  at  the  time  I  dwelt  with  my 
parents  I  was  subject  to  this  sickness.  But  now  it 
is  become  past  bearing.  I  know,  indeed,  but  one 
way  of  removing  it ;  and  that  way  is  so  impracti- 
cable, that  there  is  nothing  left  for  me  but  to  die.' 
Hereupon  spake  the  Chan,  'Te]l  unto  me  this  way 
of  help,   and   though  it    should   cost  me   half  my 


90  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

kingdom  thou  shalfc  have  it.  Tell  me  what  thou 
requirest.'  Thus  spake  he,  and  his  wife  replied 
with  the  following  words,  'If  the  heart  of  one  of 
the  Chan's  sons  were  roasted  in  the  fat  of  the  Gunsa 
(a  beast) ;  but  thou  wilt  not,  of  course,  sacrifice 
Sunshine  for  this  purpose ;  and  I  myself  bare  Moon- 
shine, his  heart  I  will  not  consume.  So  that  there 
is  now  nothing  left  for  me  but  to  die.'  The  Chan 
replied,  '  Of  a  surety  Sunshine  is  my  son,  and  in- 
expressibly dear  unto  me ;  but  in  order  that  I  may 
not  lose  thee,  I  will  to-morrow  deliver  him  over  to 
the  Jargatschi '  (the  servants  of  Justice). 

"  Moonshine  overheard  these  words  and  hastened 
to  his  brother,  and  said,  '  To-morrow  they  will 
murder  thee.'  When  he  had  related  all  the  circum- 
stances, the  brother  replied,  '  Since  it  is  so,  do  you 
remain  at  home,  honouring  your  father  and  mother. 
The  time  of  my  flight  is  come.'  Then  said  Moon- 
shine with  a  troubled  heart,  '  Alone  I  will  not  re- 
main, but  I  will  follow  thee  whithersoever  thou 
goest.' 

"Because  the  following  day  was  appointed  for 
the  murder,  the  two  brothers  took  a  sack  with 
baling-cakes  from  the  altar,  crept  out  at  night,  for 
it  was  the  night  of  the  full  moon,  from  the  palace, 
and  journeyed  on  day  and  night  through  the  moun- 
tainous country,  until  they  at  length  arrived  at  the 
course  of  a  dried-up  river.  Because  their  provender 
was   finished,    and    the    river    afforded    no    water, 


THE  RELATIONS   OF  SSIDI  KUR.  91 

Moonshine  fell  to  the  earth  utterly  exhausted. 
Then  spake  the  elder  brother,  full  of  affliction,  '  I 
will  go  and  seek  water;  but  do  you  watch  an 
instant  until  I  come  down  from  the  high  places.' 

"After  some  vain  attempts  Sunshine  returned, 
and  found  that  his  brother  had  departed  this  life. 
After  he  had  with  great  tenderness  covered  the 
body  of  his  brother  with  stones,  he  wandered  over 
high  mountains,  and  then  arrived  at  the  entrance 
of  a  cave.  Within  the  cave  sat  an  aged  Arschi. 
'Whence  comest  thou?'  inquired  the  old  man,  Hhy 
countenance  betokeneth  deep  affliction.'  And  when 
the  youth  had  related  all  that  had  passed,  the  old 
man,  taking  with  him  the  means  of  awakening  the 
dead,  went  with  the  youth  to  tne  grave,  and  called 
Moonshine  back  to  life.  *Will  ye  be  unto  me  as 
sonsV  Thus  spake  the  old  man,  and  the  two  young 
men  became  as  sons  unto  him. 

"  Not  far  from  this  place  there  reigned  a  mighty 
Chan  of  fearful  power ;  and  the  time  was  approach- 
ing in  this  country  when  the  fields  were  watered, 
but  the  crocodiles  prevented  this.  The  crocodiles 
frequented  a  marsh  at  the  source  of  the  river,  and 
would  not  allow  the  water  to  stream  forth  until 
such  times  as  a  Son  of  the  Tiger-year^  had  been 
offered  to  them  as  food.     After  a  time  it  happened 

1  Among  the  Calmucs  every  year  has  its  peculiar  name, 
and  persons  born  in  any  year  are  called  the  children  of  that, 
year. 


92  OEIENTAL   FOLKLOEE  TALES. 

that  when  search  had  been  made  in  vain  for  a  Son 
of  the  Tiger-year,  certain  people  drew  nigh  unto 
the  Chan,  and  said,  'Near  unto  the  source  of  the 
river  dwelleth  the  old  Arschi,  and  with  him  a  Son 
of  the  Tiger-year.  Thither  led  we  our  cattle  to 
drink,  and  we  saw  him.' 

"  When  he  heard  this,  the  Chan  said,  '  Go  and 
fetch  him.' 

"  Accordingly  the  messengers  were  despatched  for 
him,  and  when  they  arrived  at  the  entrance  of  the 
cave,  the  Arschi  himself  came  forth.  '  What  is  it 
that  ye  seek  here "? '  inquired  the  aged  Arschi. 
*  The  Chan,'  replied  they,  '  speaketh  to  thee  thus : 
Thou  hast  a  Son  of  the  Tiger-year.  My  kingdom 
hath  need  of  him  :  send  him  unto  me.'  But  the 
Arschi  said,  'Who  could  have  told  you  so]  who, 
indeed,  would  dwell  with  an  old  Arschi  1 ' 

"  Thus  speaking  he  retired  into  his  cave,  closed 
the  door  after  him,  and  concealed  the  youth  in  a 
stone  chest,  placed  the  lid  on  him,  and  cemented 
up  the  crevices  with  clay,  as  if  it  was  from  the  dis- 
tillation of  arrack.  But  the  messengers  having 
broken  down  the  door,  thrust  themselves  into  the 
cave,  searched  it,  and  then  said,  '  Since  he  whom  we 
sought  is  not  here,  we  are  determined  that  nothing 
shall  be  left  in  the  cave.'  Thus  speaking,  they  drew 
their  swords;  and  the  youth  said,  out  of  fear  for 
the  Arschi,  '  Hurt  not  my  father ;  I  am  here. ' 

*'  And  when  the  youth  was  come  forth,  the  mes- 


THE   RELATIONS   OF   SSIDI   KUE.  93 

sengerS  took  him  with  them ;  but  the  Arschi  they 
left  behind  them  weeping  and  sorrowing.  When 
the  youth  entered  into  the  palace  of  the  Chan,  the 
daughter  of  the  Chan  beheld  him  and  loved  him, 
and  encircled  his  neck  with  her  arms.  But  the 
attendants  addressed  the  Chan,  saying,  '  To-day  is 
the  day  appointed  for  the  casting  of  the  Son  of  the 
Tiger-year  into  the  waters.'  Upon  this  the  Chan 
said,  '  Let  him  then  be  cast  into  the  waters  ! '  But 
when  they  would  have  led  him  forth  for  that  pur- 
pose, the  daughter  of  the  Chan  spake  and  said, 
'  Cast  him  not  into  the  waters,  or  cast  me  into  the 
waters  with  him.' 

"  And  when  the  Chan  heard  these  words,  he  was 
angered,  and  said,  'Because  this  maiden  careth  so 
little  for  the  welfare  of  the  kingdom,  over  which  I 
am  Chan,  let  her  be  bound  fast  unto  the  Son  of  the 
Tiger-year,  and  let  them  be  cast  together  into  the 
waters.'  And  the  attendants  said,  'It  shall  be 
according  as  you  have  commanded.' 

"  And  when  the  youth  was  bound  fast,  and  with 
the  maiden  cast  into  the  waters,  he  cried  out,  'Since 
I  am  the  Son  of  the  Tiger-year,  it  is  certainly  lawful 
for  them  to  cast  me  into  the  waters;  but  why 
should  this  charming  maiden  die,  who  so  loveth 
meV  But  the  maiden  said,  'Since  I  am  but  an 
unworthy  creature,  it  is  certainly  lawful  for  them 
to  cast  me  into  the  waters ;  but  wherefore  do  they 
cast  in  this  beauteous  youth  1 ' 


94  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

"  Now  the  crocodiles  heard  these  words,  felt  com- 
passion, and  placed  the  lovers  once  more  upon  the 
shore.  And  no  sooner  had  this  happened  than  the 
streams  began  to  flow  again.  And  when  they  were 
thus  saved,  the  maiden  said  to  the  youth,  '  Come 
with  me,  I  pray  you,  unto  the  palace?'  and  he 
replied,  '  When  I  have  sought  out  my  father  Arschi, 
then  will  I  come,  and  we  will  live  together  un- 
severed  as  man  and  wife.' 

"  Accordingly  the  youth  returned  to  the  cave  of 
the  old  Arschi,  and  knocked  at  the  door.  'I  am 
thy  son/  said  he.  '  My  son,'  replied  the  old  man, 
'  has  the  Chan  taken  and  slain ;  therefore  it  is  that 
I  sit  here  and  weep.'  At  these  words  the  son  re- 
plied, '  Of  a  verity  I  am  thy  son.  The  Chan  indeed 
bade  them  cast  me  into  the  waters;  but  because  the 
crocodiles  devoured  me  not,  I  am  returned  unto 
you.     Weep  not,  0  my  father  ! ' 

"Arschi  then  opened  the  door,  but  he  had  suf- 
fered his  beard  and  the  hair  of  his  head  to  grow, 
so  that  he  looked  like  a  dead  man.  Sunshine 
washed  him  therefore  with  milk  and  with  water, 
and  aroused  him  by  tender  words  from  his  great 
sorrow. 

"  Now  when  the  maiden  returned  back  again  to 
the  palace,  the  Chan  and  the  whole  people  were 
exceedingly  amazed.  *  The  crocodiles,'  they  ex- 
claimed, '  have,  contrary  to  their  wont,  felt  com- 
passion for  this  maiden  and  spared  her.      This  is 


THE   EELATIONS   OF   SSIDI   KUR.  95 

indeed  a  very  wonder.'  So  the  whole  people  passed 
around  the  maiden,  bowing  themselves  down  before 
her.  But  the  Chan  said,  '  That  the  maiden  is  re- 
turned is  indeed  very  good.  But  the  Son  of  the 
Tiger-year  is  assuredly  devoured.'  At  these  words 
his  daughter  replied  unto  him,  'The  Son  of  the 
Tiger-year  assuredly  is  not  devoured.  On  account 
of  his  goodness  his  life  was  spared  him.' 

"  And  when  she  said  this,  all  were  more  than  ever 
surprised.  '  Arise  ! '  said  the  Chan  to  his  ministers, 
'  lead  this  youth  hither.'  Agreeably  to  these  com- 
mands, the  ministers  hastened  to  the  cave  of  the 
aged  Arschi.  Both  Arschi  and  the  youth  arose,  and 
when  they  approached  unto  the  dwelling  of  the 
Chan,  the  Chan  said,  'For  the  mighty  benefits 
which  this  youth  has  conferred  upon  us,  and  upon 
our  dominions,  we  feel  ourselves  bound  to  go  forth 
to  meet  him.' 

"  Thus  spake  he,  and  he  went  forth  to  meet  the 
youth,  and  led  him  into  the  interior  of  the  palace, 
and  placed  him  upon  one  of  the  seats  appropriated 
to  the  nobles.  '  0  thou  most  wondrous  youth  !  * 
he  exclaimed,  '  art  thou  indeed  the  son  of  Arschi  1 ' 
The  youth  replied,  '  I  am  the  Son  of  a  Chan.  But 
because  my  stepmother,  out  of  the  love  she  bare  to 
her  own  son,  sought  to  slay  me,  I  fled,  and,  accom- 
panied by  my  younger  brother,  arrived  at  the  cave 
of  the  aged  Arschi.' 

"  When  the  Son  of  the  Chan  related  all  this,  the 


96  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

Chan  loaded  him  with  honours,  and  gave  his 
daughters  for  wives  unto  the  two  brothers,  and  sent 
them,  with  many  costly  gifts  and  a  good  retinue, 
home  to  their  own  kingdom.  Thither  they  went, 
drew  nigh  unto  the  palace,  and  wrote  a  letter  as 
follows  : — '  To  the  Chan  their  father,  the  two 
brothers  are  returned  back  again.' 

"  Now  the  father  and  mother  had  for  many  years 
bewailed  the  loss  of  both  their  sons,  and  their 
sorrows  had  rendered  them  so  gloomy  that  they 
remained  ever  alone. 

"  On  receipt  of  this  letter  they  sent  forth  a  large 
body  of  people  to  meet  their  children.  But  because 
the  wife  of  the  Chan  saw  both  the  youths  approach- 
ing with  costly  gifts  and  a  goodly  retinue,  so  great 
was  her  envy  that  she  died." 

"  She  was  very  justly  served ! "  exclaimed  the  Son 
of  the  Chan. 

"  Euler  of  Destiny,  thou  hast  spoken  words ! 
Ssarwala  missdood  jonkzang."  Thus  spake  Ssidi, 
and  burst  from  the  sack  through  the  air. 

Thus  Ssidi's  jBfth  relation  treats  of  Sunshine  and 
his  brother. 

The  AYonderful  Man  who  overcmie  the 
Chan. 

When  the  Son  of  the  Chan  had  proceeded  as 
formerly  to  seize  the  dead  one,  then  spake  he  the 


THE   RELATIONS    OF   SSIDI   KUR.  97 

threatening  words,  seized  upon  Ssidi,  thrust  him 
into  the  sack,  tied  the  sack  fast,  ate  of  the  butter- 
cakes,  and  journeyed  forth  with  his  burden.  After 
Ssidi  had  as  before  asked  who  should  tell  the  tale, 
and  the  Son  of  the  Chan  had  replied  by  merely  shak- 
ing his  head,  Ssidi  began  the  following  relation  : — 

"  A  long,  long  time  ago  there  lived  in  the  land  of 
Barschiss,  a  wild,  high-spirited  man,  who  would  not 
allow  any  one  to  be  above  him.  Then  spake  the 
Chan  of  the  kingdom  to  him,  full  of  displeasure, 
'Away  with  thee,  thou  good-for-nothing  one  !  Away 
with  thee  to  some  other  kingdom  ! '  Thus  spake  he, 
and  the  wild  man  departed  forth  out  of  the  country. 

"On  his  journey  he  arrived  about  mid-day  at 
a  forest,  where  he  found  the  body  of  a  horse, 
which  had  been  somehow  killed,  and  he  accordingly 
cut  off  its  head,  fastened  it  to  his  girdle,  and  climbed 
up  a  tree. 

"About  midnight  there  assembled  a  host  of 
Tschadkurrs  (evil  spirits)  mounted  upon  horses  of 
bark,  wearing  likewise  caps  of  bark,  and  they  placed 
themselves  around  the  tree.  Afterwards  there 
assembled  together  other  Tschadkurrs,  mounted 
upon  horses  of  paper,  and  having  caps  of  paper  on 
their  heads,  and  they  likewise  placed  themselves 
around  the  tree. 

"  During  the  time  that  those  who  were  assembled 
were  partaking  of  various  choice  wines  and  liquors, 
the  man  peeped  anxiously  down  from  the  tree,  and 

Ot'iental.  p 


98  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE  TALES. 

as  he  was  doing  so,  the  horse's  head  fell  down  from 
his  belt.  The  Tschadkurrs  were  thereby  exceed- 
ingly alarmed ;  so  much  that  they  fled  hither  and 
thither  uttering  fearful  cries. 

"On  the  following  morning  the  man  descended 
from  the  tree,  and  said,  '  This  night  there  was  in 
this  spot  many  choice  viands  and  liquors,  and  now 
they  are  all  vanished.'  And  while  he  was  thus 
speaking,  he  found  a  brandy  flask,  and  as  he  was 
anxious  for  something  to  drink,  he  immediately 
applied  the  flask  which  he  had  found  to  his  lips ; 
when  suddenly  there  sprang  out  of  it  meat  and 
cakes  and  other  delicacies  fit  for  eating.  '  This 
flask,'  cried  he,  'is  of  a  surety  a  wishing  flask,  which 
will  procure  him  who  has  it  everything  he  desires. 
I  will  take  the  flask  with  me.' 

"  And  when  he  had  thus  spoken,  he  continued 
his  journey  until  he  met  with  a  man  holding  a 
sword  in  his  hand.  '  Wherefore,'  cried  he,  '  dost 
thou  carry  that  sword  in  thine  hand  1 '  And  the 
man  answered,  '  This  sword  is  called  Kreisch winger; 
and  when  I  say  to  it,  "  Kreisch  winger,  thither  goes 
a  man  who  has  taken  such  a  thing  from  me,  follow 
him  and  bring  it  back,"  Kreisch  winger  goes  forth, 
kills  the  man,  and  brings  my  property  back  again.' 
To  this  the  first  replied,  '  Out  of  this  vessel  springeth 
everything  you  desire ;  let  us  exchange.'  So  accord- 
ingly they  made  an  exchange ;  and  when  the  man 
went  away  with  the  flask,  he  who  now  owned  the 


THE   EELATIONS   OF   SSIDI   KUR.  99 

sword  said,  '  Kreischwinger,  go  forth  now  and  bring 
me  back  my  flask/  So  the  sword  went  forth,  smote 
his  former  master  dead,  and  brought  the  golden 
vessel  back  again. 

"  When  he  had  jcurneyed  a  little  further,  he  met 
a  man  holding  in  his  hand  an  iron  hammer.  '  Where- 
fore,' cried  he,  '  dost  thou  hold  this  hammer  in  thy 
hand  1 '  To  this  question  the  other  replied,  '  When 
I  strike  the  earth  nine  times  with  this  hammer, 
there  immediately  arises  a  wall  of  iron,  nine  pillars 
high.'  Then  said  the  first,  '  Let  us  make  an  ex- 
change.' And  wdien  the  exchange  was  made,  he 
cried  out,  '  Kreischwinger,  go  forth  and  bring  me 
back  my  golden  vessel !  ' 

"After  Kreischwinger  had  slain  the  man,  and 
brought  back  the  golden  vessel,  the  man  journeyed 
on  until  he  encountered  another  man,  carrying  in 
his  bosom  a  sack,  made  of  goatskin,  and  he  asked 
him,  '  Wherefore  keepest  thou  that  sack  1 '  To  this 
question  the  other  replied,  'This  sack  is  a  very 
wonderful  thing.  When  you  shake  it,  it  rains 
heavily ;  and  if  you  shake  it  very  hard,  it  rains  very 
heavily.'  Hereupon  the  owner  of  the  flask  said, 
•'  Let  us  change,'  and  they  changed  accordingly ;  and 
the  sword  went  forth,  slew  the  man,  and  returned 
back  to  its  master  with  the  golden  vessel. 

"  When  the  man  found  himself  in  the  possession 
of  all  these  wonderful  things,  he  said  unto  himself, 
'  The  Chan  of  my  country  is  indeed  a  cruel  man  ; 


100  OKIENTAL   FOLKLORE  TALES. 

nevertheless  I  will  turn  back  unto  my  native  land/ 
When  he  had  thus  considered,  he  turned  back  again, 
and  concealed  himself  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
royal  palace. 

''  About  midnight  he  struck  the  earth  nine  times 
with  his  iron  hammer,  and  there  arose  an  iron  wall 
nine  pillars  high. 

"  On  the  following  morning  the  Chan  arose,  and 
said,  'During  the  night  I  have  heard  a  mighty  tock, 
tock  at  the  back  of  the  palace.'  Thereupon  the  wife 
of  the  Chan  looked  out,  and  said,  '  At  the  back  of 
the  palace  there  stands  an  iron  wall  nine  pillars 
high.'  Thus  spake  she ;  and  the  Chan  replied,  full 
of  anger,  '  The  wild,  high-spirited  man  has  of  a  surety 
erected  this  iron  wall ;  but  we  shall  see  whether  he 
or  I  will  be  the  conqueror.' 

"When  he  had  spoken  these  words  the  Chan 
commanded  all  the  people  to  take  fuel  and  bellows, 
and  make  the  iron  wall  red-hot  on  every  side. 
Thereupon  there  was  an  immense  fire  kindled,  and 
the  Wonderful  Man  found  himself,  with  his  mother, 
within  the  wall  of  iron.  He  was  himself  upon  the 
upper  pillars,  but  his  mother  was  on  the  eighth. 
And  because  the  heat  first  reached  the  mother,  she 
exclaimed  unto  her  son,  '  The  fires  which  the  Chan 
has  commanded  the  people  to  kindle  will  destroy 
the  iron  wall,  and  we  shall  both  die.'  The  son 
replied,  '  Have  no  fear,  mother,  for  I  can  find  means 
to  prevent  it.' 


THE   RELATIONS   OF   SSIDI  KUR.  101 

"  When  he  had  spoken  these  words  he  shook  the 
sack  of  goatskin,  and  there  descended  heavy  rain 
and  extinguished  the  fire.  After  that  he  shook  the 
sack  still  more  forcibly,  and  there  arose  around 
them  a  mighty  sea,  which  carried  away  both  the  fuel 
and  the  bellows  which  the  people  had  collected." 

"  Thus,  then,  the  Wonderful  gained  the  mastery 
over  the  Chan,"  exclaimed  the  Son  of  the  Chan. 

"  Euler  of  Destiny,  thou  hast  spoken  words ! 
Ssarwala  missdood  jakzang!"  Thus  spake  Ssidi, 
and  burst  from  the  sack  through  the  air. 

Thus  Ssidi's  sixth  relation  treats  of  the  Wonderful 
Man  who  overpowered  the  Chan. 

The  Bird-man. 

When  the  Son  of  the  Chan  had  done  as  formerly, 
spoken  the  threatening  words,  and  carried  ofi"  Ssidi, 
Ssidi  asked  him  as  before  to  tell  a  tale ;  but  the 
Son  of  the  Chan  shook  his  head  without  speaking 
a  word,  and  Ssidi  began  as  follows  : — 

"  In  times  gone  by  there  lived  in  a  fair  country 
the  father  of  a  family,  whose  three  daughters  had 
daily  by  turns  to  watch  over  the  calves.  Now  it 
once  happened,  during  the  time  that  the  eldest 
sister  should  have  been  watching  the  calves,  that 
she  fell  asleep,  and  one  of  them  was  lost.  When 
the  maiden  awoke  and  missed  the  calf,  she  arose  and 
went  forth  to  seek  it,  and  wandered  about  until  she 
reached  a  large  house  with  a  red  door. 


102  ORIENTAL  FOLKLOEE  TALES. 

"  She  went  in,  and  then  came  to  a  golden  door, 
next  to  that  to  a  silver  one,  and  last  of  all  to  a 
brazen  door.  After  she  had  likewise  opened  this 
door  she  found,  close  to  the  entrance  of  it,  a  cage 
decorated  with  gold  and  all  manner  of  costly  jewels, 
and  within  it,  on  a  perch,  there  stood  a  white  bird. 

" '  I  have  lost  a  calf,'  said  the  maiden,  '  and 
am  come  hither  to  seek  it.'  At  these  words  the 
bird  said,  'If  thou  wilt  become  my  wife  I  will 
find  the  calf  for  you,  but  not  without.'  But  the 
maiden  said,  '  That  may  not  be ;  among  men  birds 
are  looked  upon  but  as  wild  creatures.  Therefore  I 
will  not  become  your  wife,  even  though,  through 
refusing,  I  lose  the  calf  for  ever.'  And  when  she 
had  thus  spoken  she  returned  home  again. 

"  On  the  following  day  the  second  sister  went 
forth  to  tend  the  calves,  and  she  likewise  lost  one  of 
them.  And  it  happened  unto  her  as  it  had  done 
unto  the  eldest  sister,  and  she  too  refused  to  become 
the  wife  of  the  bird. 

"At  last  the  youngest  sister  went  forth  with  the 
calves,  and  when  she  missed  one  she  too  wandered  on 
until  she  reached  the  house  wherein  the  bird  resided. 
The  bird  said  unto  her  likewise,  '  If  thou  wilt  become 
my  wife,  I  will  procure  for  thee  the  calf  which  thou 
hast  lost.'  'Be  it  according  to  thy  will.'  Thus 
spake  she,  and  became  the  wife  of  the  bird. 

"After  some  time  it  happened  that  a  mighty 
thirteen  days'  feast  was  held  at  a  large  pagoda  in 


THE  RELATIONS   OF   SSIDI  KUK.  103 

the  neighbourhood,  and  upon  this  occasion  a  number 
of  persons  assembled  together,  amongst  the  rest 
the  wife  of  the  bird.  And  she  was  the  foremost 
among  the  women ;  but  among  the  men  the  most 
noticed  was  an  armed  man,  who  rode  upon  a  white 
horse  three  times  round  the  assemblage.  And  all 
who  saw  him  exclaimed,  '  He  is  the  first.' 

"  And  when  the  woman  returned  home  again  the 
white  bird  demanded  of  her,  '  \Yho  were  the  fore- 
most among  the  men  and  the  women  who  were 
there  assembled  together  ? '  Then  said  the  woman, 
'  The  foremost  among  the  men  was  seated  upon  a 
white  horse,  but  I  knew  him  not.  The  foremost  of 
the  women  was  myself.' 

"  And  for  eleven  days  did  these  things  so  fall  out. 
But  on  the  twelfth  day,  when  the  wife  of  the  bird 
went  to  the  assemblage,  she  sat  herself  down  near 
an  old  woman.  '  Who/  said  the  old  woman,  '  is 
the  first  in  the  assemblage  this  day  *? '  To  this 
question  the  wife  of  the  bird  replied,  '  Among  the 
men,  the  rider  upon  the  white  horse  is  beyond  all 
comparison  the  foremost.  Among  the  women,  I 
myself  am  so.  Would  that  I  were  bound  unto  this 
man,  for  my  husband  is  numbered  among  wild 
creatures  since  he  is  nothing  but  a  bird.' 

"  Thus  spake  she,  weeping,  and  the  old  woman 
replied  as  follows  : — *  Speak  ye  no  more  words  like 
unto  these.  Amongst  the  assembled  women  thou 
art  in  all  things  the  foremost.     But  the  rider  upon 


104  OFJENTAL   rOLKLOEE   TALES. 

the  white  horse  is  thine  own  husband.  To-morrow 
is  the  thirteenth  day  of  the  feast.  Come  not  to- 
morrow unto  the  feast,  but  remain  at  home  behind 
the  door  until  thine  husband  opens  his  birdhouse, 
takes  his  steed  from  the  stable,  and  rides  to  th3 
feast.  Take  ye,  then,  the  open  birdhouse  and  burn 
it.  And  when  thou  hast  done  this  thy  husband 
will  remain  henceforth  and  for  ever  in  his  true 
form.' 

"  The  wife  of  the  bird,  thereupon,  did  as  she  had 
been  told  ;  and  when  the  birdhouse  was  opened,  and 
her  husband  had  departed,  she  took  the  birdhouse 
and  burnt  it  upon  the  hearth.  When  the  sun 
bowed  down  towards  the  west  the  bird  returned 
home,  and  said  to  his  wife,  '  What,  art  thou  already 
returned  ? '  and  she  said,  '  I  am  already  returned.' 
Then  said  her  husband,  '  Where  is  my  birdhouse  *? ' 
And  the  wife  replied,  '  I  have  burnt  it.'  And  he 
said,  '  Barama,  that  is  a  pretty  business — that  bird- 
house  was  my  soul.' 

"  And  his  wife  was  troubled,  and  said,  '  What  is 
now  to  be  done  1 '  To  these  words  the  bird  replied, 
'  There  is  nothing  can  be  done  now,  except  you  seat 
yourself  behind  the  door,  and  there  by  day  and 
night  keep  clattering  a  sword.  But  if  the  clatter- 
ing sword  ceases,  the  Tschadkurrs  will  carry  me  away. 
Seven  days  and  seven  nights  must  ye  thus  defend 
me  from  the  Tschadkurrs  and  from  the  Tangari.' 

'■  At  these  words  the  wife  took  the  sword,  propped 


THE   RELATIONS   OF  SSIDI  KUR.  105 

Open  her  eyelids  with  little  sticks,  and  watched  for 
the  space  of  six  nights.  On  the  seventh  night  her 
eyelids  closed  for  an  instant,  but  in  that  instant 
the  Tschadkurrs  and  Tang^ri  suddenly  snatched  her 
husband  away. 

"  Weeping  bitterly,  and  despising  all  nourish- 
ment, the  distracted  wife  ran  about  everywhere, 
crying  unceasingly,  '  Alas,  my  bird-husband !  Alas, 
my  bird-husband  ! ' 

"  When  she  had  sought  for  him  day  and  night 
without  finding  him,  she  heard  from  the  top  of  a 
mountain  the  voice  of  her  husband.  Following  the 
sound,  she  discovered  that  the  voice  proceeded  from 
the  river.  She  ran  to  the  river,  and  then  discovered 
her  husband  with  a  load  of  tattered  boots  upon  his 
back.  *  Oh !  my  heart  is  greatly  rejoiced,'  said  the 
husband,  *  at  seeing  thee  once  more.  I  am  forced  to 
draw  water  for  the  Tschadkurrs  and  the  Tangari, 
and  have  worn  out  all  these  boots  in  doing  so.  If 
thou  wishest  to  have  me  once  again,  build  me  a 
new  birdhouse,  and  dedicate  it  to  my  soul ;  then  I 
shall  come  back  again.' 

"  With  these  words  he  vanished  into  the  air.  But 
the  woman  betook  herself  home  to  the  house  asjain, 
made  a  new  birdhouse,  and  dedicated  it  to  the  soul 
of  her  husband.  At  length  the  bird-man  appeared 
and  perched  himself  on  the  roof  of  the  house." 

"  Truly,  his  wife  was  an  excellent  wife ! "  exclaimed 
the  Son  of  the  Chan. 


106  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

"  Euler  of  Destiny,  thou  hast  spoken  words ! 
Ssarwala  missdood  jakzang  ! '  Thus  spake  Ssidi, 
and  burst  from  the  sack  through  the  air. 

Thus  Ssidi's  seventh  relation  treats  of  the  Bird- 
man. 

The  Painter  and  the  Wood-carver. 

When  the  Son  of  the  Chan  had,  as  on  all  the 
former  occasions,  spoken  the  words  of  threatening, 
placed  the  dead  one  in  the  sack,  and  journeyed  forth 
with  him,  Ssidi  spake  this  time  also  as  follows  : — 
*  The  day  is  long,  and  the  distant  journey  will 
tire  us :  do  you  relate  a  tale  unto  me,  or  I  will  relate 
one  unto  you."  But  the  Son  of  the  Chan  shook  his 
head  without  saying  a  word,  and  Ssidi  began  as 
follows : — 

"  Many  years  ago  there  lived  in  the  land  of 
Gujassmunn  a  Chan,  whose  name  was  Gunisschang. 
This  Chan,  however,  died,  and  his  son  Chamuk 
Sakiktschi  was  elected  Chan  in  his  place.  Now 
there  lived  among  the  people  of  that  country  a 
painter  and  a  wood-carver,  who  bore  similar  names, 
and  were  evilly  disposed  towards  each  other. 

"  Once  upon  a  time  the  painter,  Gunga,  drew 
nigh  unto  the  Chan,  and  said  unto  him,  '  Thy  father 
hath  been  borne  into  the  kingdom  of  the  Tangari, 
and  hath  said  unto  me,  "  Come  unto  me  !  "  Thither 
I  went,  and  found  thy  father  in  great  power  and 


THE   KELATIOXS    OF   SSIDI   KUR.  107 

splendour ;  and  I  have  brought  for  you  this  letter 
from  him.'  AYith  these  words  the  painter  delivered 
unto  the  Chan  a  forged  letter,  the  contents  of  which 
were  as  follows  : — 

"'This  letter  is  addressed  to  my  son  Chamuk 
Sakiktschi. 

" '  When  I  departed  this  life,  I  was  borne  to  the 
kingdom  of  the  Tangari.  An  abundance  of  all 
things  reigns  in  this  land ;  but  since  I  am  desirous 
of  erecting  a  pagoda,  and  there  are  no  wood-carvers 
to  be  found  here,  do  you  despatch  unto  me  Cunga, 
the  wood -carver.  The  means  by  which  he  is  to 
reach  this  place  he  may  learn  from  the  painter.' 

"  After  he  had  perused  this  letter,  the  Chan  of 
Gujassmunn  said,  'If  my  father  has  really  been 
carried  into  the  realms  of  the  Tangari,  that  would 
indeed  be  a  good  thing.  Call  hither  the  wood- 
carver  ? '  The  wood-carver  was  called,  and  appeared 
before  the  Chan,  and  the  Chan  said  unto  him,  *  My 
father  has  been  carried  into  the  realms  of  the 
Tangari  He  is  desirous  of  erecting  a  pagoda,  and 
because  there  are  no  wood-carvers  there  he  is 
desirous  that  you  should  be  despatched  unto  him.' 

"  With  these  words  the  Chan  displayed  the  forged 
letter,  and  when  he  had  read  it,  the  wood-carver 
said  unto  himself,  '  Of  a  surety  Gunga,  the  painter, 
has  played  me  this  trick  ;  but  I  will  try  if  I  cannot 
overreach  him.' 

"  Thus  thinking,  he  inquired  of  the  painter,  '  By 


108  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE   TALES. 

what  means  can  I  reach  the  kingdom  of  the 
Tangari  1 ' 

"  To  these  words  the  painter  replied,  *When  thou 
hast  prepared  all  thy  tools  and  implements  of  trade, 
then  place  thyself  upon  a  pile  of  fagots,  and  when 
thou  hast  sung  songs  of  rejoicing  and  set  light  to 
the  pile  of  fagots,  thus  wilt  thou  be  able  to  reach 
the  kingdom  of  the  Tangari.'  Thus  spake  he,  and 
the  seventh  night  from  that  time  was  appointed  for 
the  carver's  setting  forth  on  his  journey. 

*'  When  the  wood-carver  returned  home  unto  his 
wife,  he  spake  unto  her  these  words  : — '  The  painter 
hath  conceived  wickedness  in  his  mind  against  me ; 
yet  I  shall  try  means  to  overreach  him.' 

"  Accordingly  he  secretly  contrived  a  subterranean 
passage,  which  reached  from  his  own  house  into  the 
middle  of  his  field.  Over  the  aperture  in  the  field 
he  placed  a  large  stone,  covered  the  stone  with 
earth,  and  when  the  seventh  night  was  come,  the 
Chan  said,  'This  night  let  the  wood-carver  draw 
nigh  unto  the  Chan,  my  father.'  Thereupon,  agree- 
ably to  the  commands  of  the  Chan,  every  one  of  the 
people  brought  out  a  handful  of  the  fat  of  the 
Gunsa  (a  beast).  A  huge  fire  was  kindled,  and  the 
wood-cutter,  when  he  had  sung  the  songs  of  rejoic- 
ing, escaped  by  the  covered  way  he  had  made  back 
to  his  own  house. 

"  Meanwhile  the  painter  was  greatly  rejoiced,  and 
pointed  upwards  with  his  finger,  and  said,  '  There 


THE   RELATIONS   OF   SSIDI  KUR.  109 

rideth  the  wood-carver  up  to  heaven.'  All  who  had 
been  present,  too,  betook  themselves  home,  thinking 
in  their  hearts,  '  The  wood-carver  is  dead,  and  gone 
up  above  to  the  Chan.' 

''The  wood-carver  remained  concealed  at  home 
a  whole  month,  and  allowed  no  man  to  set  eyes 
upon  him,  but  washed  his  head  in  milk  every  day, 
and  kept  himself  always  in  the  shade.  After  that 
he  put  on  a  garment  of  white  silk,  and  wrote  a 
letter,  in  which  stood  the  following  words : — 

"'This  letter  is  addressed  to  my  son  Chamuk 
Sakiktschi.  That  thou  rulest  the  kingdom  in 
peace  ;  it  is  very  good.  Since  thy  wood-carver  has 
completed  his  work,  it  is  needful  that  he  should  be 
rewarded  according  to  his  deserts.  Since,  more- 
over, for  the  decoration  of  the  pagoda,  many 
coloured  paintings  are  necessary,  send  unto  me  the 
painter,  as  thou  hast  already  sent  this  man.' 

"  The  wood-carver  then  drew  nigh  unto  the  Chan 
with  this  letter.  '  What ! '  cried  the  Chan,  '  art 
thou  returned  from  the  kingdom  of  the  Tangari  ? ' 
The  wood-carver  handed  the  letter  unto  him,  and 
said,  '  I  have,  indeed,  been  in  the  kingdom  of  the 
Tangari,  and  from  it  I  am  returned  home  again.' 

"  The  Chan  was  greatly  rejoiced  when  he  heard 
this,  and  rewarded  the  wood-carver  with  costly 
presents.  *  Because  the  painter  is  now  required,' 
said  the  Chan,  *  for  the  painting  of  the  pagoda,  let 
him  now  be  called  before  me.' 


no  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

"The  painter  drew  nigh  accordingly,  and  when 
he  saw  the  wood-carver,  fair,  and  in  white-shining 
robes,  and  decorated  with  gifts,  he  said  imto  him- 
self, '  Then  he  is  not  dead  ! '  And  the  Chan  handed 
over  to  the  painter  the  forged  letter,  with  the  seal 
thereto,  and  said,  '  Thou  must  go  now.' 

"And  when  the  seventh  night  from  that  time 
arrived,  the  people  came  forward  as  before  with  a 
contribution  of  the  fat  of  the  Gunsa;  and  in  the 
midst  of  the  field  a  pile  of  fagots  was  kindled. 
The  painter  seated  himself  in  the  midst  of  the  fire, 
with  his  materials  for  painting,  and  a  letter  and 
gifts  of  honour  for  the  Chan  Gunisschang,  and  sang 
songs  of  rejoicing;  and  as  the  fire  kept  growing 
more  and  more  intolerable,  he  lifted  up  his  voice 
and  uttered  piercing  cries;  but  the  noise  of  the 
instruments  overpowered  his  voice,  and  at  length 
the  fire  consumed  him." 

"  He  was  properly  rewarded  ! "  exclaimed  the  Son 
of  the  Chan. 

"  Euler  of  Destiny,  thou  hast  spoken  words  ! 
Ssarwala  missdood  jakzang ! "  Thus  spake  Ssidi, 
and  burst  from  the  sack  through  the  air. 

Thus  Ssidi's  eighth  relation  treats  of  the  Painter 
and  the  Wood-carver. 

The  Stealing  of  the  Heart. 

When  the  Son  of  the  Chan  was,  as  formerly, 
carrying  Ssidi  away  in  the  sack,  Ssidi  inquired  of 


THE  RELATIONS  OF   SSIDI  KUK.  Ill 

him  as  before ;  but  the  Son  of  the  Chan  shook  his 
head  without  speaking  a  word,  so  Ssidi  proceeded 
as  follows  : — 

"  Many,  many  years  ago  there  ruled  over  a  cer- 
tain kingdom  a  Chan  named  Guguluktschi.  Upon 
the  death  of  this  Chan  his  son,  who  was  of  great 
reputation  and  worth,  was  elected  Chan  in  his  place. 

"One  berren  (a  measure  of  distance)  from  the 
residence  of  the  Chan  dwelt  a  man,  who  had  a 
daughter  of  wonderful  abilities  and  extraordinary 
beauty.  The  son  of  the  Chan  was  enamoured  of 
this  maiden,  and  visited  her  daily ;  until,  at  length, 
he  fell  sick  of  a  grievous  malady,  and  died,  without 
the  maiden  being  made  aware  of  it. 

"One  night,  just  as  the  moon  was  rising,  the 
maiden  heard  a  knocking  at  the  door,  and  the  face 
of  the  maiden  was  gladdened  when  she  beheld  the 
son  of  the  Chan  ;  and  the  maiden  arose  and  went 
to  meet  him,  and  she  led  him  in  and  placed  arrack 
and  cakes  before  him.  '  Wife,'  said  the  son  of  the 
Chan,  '  come  with  me  !  ' 

"The  maiden  followed,  and  they  kept  going 
further  and  further,  until  they  arrived  at  the  dwelling 
of  the  Chan,  from  which  proceeded  the  sound  of 
cymbals  and  kettledrums. 

"'Chan,  what  is  this'?'  she  asked.  The  son  of 
the  Chan  replied  to  these  inquiries  of  the  maiden, 
'  Do  you  not  know  that  they  are  now  celebrating  the 
feast   of  my  funeral  1 '     Thus  spake  he ;    and  the 


112  OEIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

maiden  replied,  '  The  feast  of  thy  funeral  !  Has 
anything  then  befallen  the  Chan's  son  V  And  the 
son  of  the  Chan  replied,  'He  is  departed.  Thou 
wilt,  however,  bear  a  son  unto  him.  And  when  the 
season  is  come,  go  into  the  stable  of  the  elephant, 
and  let  him  be  born  there.  In  the  palace  there  will 
arise  a  contention  betwixt  my  mother  and  her 
attendants,  because  of  the  wonderful  stone  of  the 
kinsrdom.     The  wonderful  stone  lies  under  the  table 

o 

of  sacrifice.  After  it  has  been  discovered,  do  you 
and  my  mother  reign  over  this  kingdom  until  such 
time  as  my  son  comes  of  age.' 

"  Thus  spake  he,  and  vanished  into  air.  But  his 
beloved  fell,  from  very  anguish,  into  a  swoon. 
'  Chan !  Chan  ! '  exclaimed  she  sorrowfully,  when 
she  came  to  herself  again.  And  because  she  felt 
that  the  time  was  come,  she  betook  herself  to  the 
stable  of  the  elephants,  and  there  gave  birth  to  a 
son. 

"  On  the  following  morning,  when  the  keeper  of 
the  elephants  entered  the  stable,  he  exclaimed, 
'  What !  has  a  woman  given  birth  to  a  son  in  the 
stable  of  the  elephants?  This  never  happened 
before.     This  may  be  an  injury  to  the  elephants.' 

"  At  these  words  the  maiden  said,  '  Go  unto  the 
mother  of  the  Chan,  and  say  unto  her,  "  Arise ! 
something  wonderful  has  taken  place." ' 

"  When  these  words  were  told  unto  the  mother  of 
the  Chan,  then  she  arose  and  went  unto  the  stable, 


THE   RELATIONS    OF   SSIDI    KUE.  113 

and  the  maiden  related  unto  her  all  that  had 
happened.  '  Wonderful !  '  said  the  mother  of  the 
Chan.  '  Otherwise  the  Chan  had  left  no  successors. 
Let  us  go  together  into  the  house.' 

"  Thus  speaking,  she  took  the  maiden  with  her 
into  the  house,  and  nursed  her,  and  tended  her 
carefully.  And  because  her  account  of  the  wonderful 
stone  was  found  correct,  all  the  rest  of  her  story  was 
believed.  So  the  mother  of  the  Chan  and  his  wife 
ruled  over  the  kingdom. 

"  Henceforth,  too,  it  happened  that  every  month, 
on  the  night  of  the  full  moon,  the  deceased  Chan 
appeared  to  his  wife,  remained  with  her  until 
morning  dawned,  and  then  vanished  into  air.  And 
the  wife  recounted  this  to  his  mother,  but  his  mother 
believed  her  not,  and  said,  '  This  is  a  mere  invention. 
If  it  were  true  my  son  would,  of  a  surety,  show  him- 
self likewise  unto  me.  If  I  am  to  believe  your 
words,  you  must  take  care  that  mother  and  son 
meet  one  another.' 

"  When  the  son  of  the  Chan  came  on  the  night 
of  the  full  moon,  his  wife  said  unto  him,  '  It  is  well 
that  thou  comest  unto  me  on  the  night  of  every  full 
moon,  but  it  were  yet  better  if  thou  camest  every 
night.'  And  as  she  spake  thus,  with  tears  in  her 
eyes,  the  son  of  the  Chan  replied,  '  If  thou  hadst 
sufficient  spirit  to  dare  its  accomplishment,  thou 
mightest  do  what  would  bring  me  every  night ;  but 
thou  art  young  and  cannot  do  it.'     *  Then,'  said  she, 

OrientaL  tt 


114  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

'if  thou  wilt  but  come  every  night,  I  will  do  all 
that  is  required  of  me,  although  I  should  thereby  lose 
both  flesh  and  bone.' 

"  Thereupon  the  sou  of  the  Chan  sj^ake  as  follows  : 
'  Then  betake  thyself  on  the  night  of  the  full  moon 
a  berren  from  this  place  to  the  iron  old  man,  and 
give  unto  him  arrack.  A  little  further  you  will 
come  unto  two  rams,  to  them  you  must  offer 
batschimak  cakes.  A  little  further  on  you  will 
perceive  a  host  of  men  in  coats  of  mail  and  other 
armour,  and  there  you  must  share  out  meat  and 
cakes.  From  thence  you  must  proceed  to  a  large 
black  building,  stained  with  blood;  the  skin  of  a 
man  floats  over  it  instead  of  a  flag.  Two  aerliks 
(fiends)  stand  at  the  entrance.  Present  unto  them 
both  ofi'erings  of  blood.  Within  the  mansion  thou 
wilt  discover  nine  fearful  exorcists,  and  nine  hearts 
upon  a  throne.  "  Take  me  !  take  me  !  "  will  the 
eight  old  hearts  exclaim ;  and  the  ninth  heart  will 
cry  out,  "  Do  not  take  me  ! "  But  leave  the  old 
hearts  and  take  the  fresh  one,  and  run  home  with  it 
without  looking  round.' 

"  Much  as  the  maiden  was  alarmed  at  the  task 
which  she  had  been  enjoined  to  perform,  she  set 
forth  on  the  night  of  the  next  full  moon,  divided 
the  offerings,  and  entered  the  house.  'Take  me 
not ! '  exclaimed  the  fresh  heart ;  but  the  maiden 
seized  the  fresh  heart  and  fled  with  it.  The  exorcists 
fled  after  her,  and    cried   out  to  those   who  were 


THE    RELATIONS    OF   SSIDI   KUE.  115 

watching,  '  Stop  the  thief  of  the  heart ! '  And  the 
two  aerlic  (fiends)  cried,  'We  have  received  offerings 
of  blood  ! '  Then  each  of  the  armed  men  cried  out, 
!  Stop  the  thief !  '  But  the  rams  said,  '  We  have 
received  batschimak  cakes.'  Then  they  called  out 
to  the  iron  old  man,  '  Stop  the  thief  with  the  heart !' 
But  the  old  man  said,  *  I  have  received  arrack  from 
her,  and  shall  not  stop  her.' 

"Thereupon  the  maiden  journeyed  on  without 
fear  until  she  reached  home ;  and  she  found  upon 
entering  the  house  the  Chan's  son,  attired  in  festive 
garments.  And  the  Chan's  son  drew  nigh,  and 
threw  his  arms  about  the  neck  of  the  maiden." 

"  The  maiden  behaved  well  indeed  !  "  exclaimed 
the  Son  of  the  Chan. 

"  Euler  of  Destiny,  thou  hast  spoken  words ! 
Ssarwala  missdood  jakzang."  Thus  spake  Ssidi,  and 
burst  from  the  sack  through  the  air. 

Thus  Ssidi's  ninth  relation  treats  of  the  Stealing 
of  the  Heart. 

The  Man  and  his  Wife. 

When  Ssidi  had  been  captured  as  before,  and 
was  being  carried  away  in  the  sack,  he  inquired, 
as  he  had  always  done,  as  to  telling  a  tale ;  but  the 
Son  of  the  Chan  shook  his  head  without  speaking  a 
word.  Whereupon  Ssidi  began  the  following  rela- 
tion :— 


116  ORIENTAL  FOLKLOEE  TALES. 

"  Many,  many  years  since,  there  lived  in  the 
kingdom  of  Olmilsong  two  brothers,  and  they  were 
both  married.  Now  the  elder  brother  and  his  wife 
were  niggardly  and  envious,  while  the  younger 
brother  was  of  quite  a  different  disposition. 

''Once  upon  a  time  the  elder  brother,  who  had 
contrived  to  gather  together  abundance  of  riches, 
gave  a  great  feast,  and  invited  many  people  to 
partake  of  it.  When  this  was  known,  the  younger 
thought  to  himself,  '  Although  my  elder  brother  has 
hitherto  not  treated  me  very  well,  yet  he  will  now, 
no  doubt,  since  he  has  invited  so  many  people  to  his 
feast,  invite  also  me  and  my  wife.'  This  he  certainly 
expected,  but  yet  he  was  not  invited.  '  Probably,' 
thought  he,  '  my  brother  will  summon  me  to-morrow 
morning  to  the  brandy-drinking.'  Because,  how- 
ever, he  was  not  even  invited  unto  that,  he  grieved 
very  sore,  and  said  unto  himself,  '  This  night,  when 
my  brother's  wife  has  drunk  the  brandy,  I  will  go 
unto  the  house  and  steal  somewhat.' 

"  When,  however,  he  had  glided  into  the  treasure- 
chamber  of  his  brother,  there  lay  the  wife  of  his 
brother  near  her  husband ;  but  presently  she  arose 
and  went  into  the  kitchen,  and  cooked  meat  and 
sweet  food,  and  went  out  of  the  door  with  it.  The 
concealed  one  did  not  venture  at  this  moment  to 
steal  anything,  but  said  unto  himself,  '  Before  I 
steal  anything,  I  will  just  see  what  all  this  means.' 

"So   saying,    he  went   forth   and   followed   the 


THE  RELATIONS  OF  SSIDI   KUR.  117 

woman  to  a  mountain  where  the  dead  were  wont  to 
be  laid.  On  the  top,  upon  a  green  mound,  lay  a 
beautiful  ornamental  tomb  over  the  body  of  a  dead 
man.  This  man  had  formerly  been  the  lover  of  the 
woman.  Even  when  afar  off  she  called  unto  the 
dead  man  by  name,  and  when  she  had  come  unto 
him  she  threw  her  arms  about  his  neck ;  and  the 
younger  brother  was  nigh  unto  her,  and  saw  all 
that  she  did. 

"  The  woman  next  handed  the  sweet  food  which 
she  had  prepared  to  the  dead  man,  and  because  the 
teeth  of  the  corse  did  not  open,  she  separated  them 
with  a  pair  of  brazen  pincers,  and  pushed  the  food 
into  his  mouth.  Suddenly  the  pincers  bounced  back 
from  the  teeth  of  the  dead  man,  and  snapped  off  the 
tip  of  the  woman's  nose ;  while,  at  the  same  time, 
the  teeth  of  the  dead  man  closed  together  and  bit 
off  the  end  of  the  woman's  tongue.  Upon  this  the 
woman  took  up  the  dish  with  the  food  and  went 
back  to  her  home. 

"The  younger  brother  thereupon  followed  her 
home,  and  concealed  himself  in  the  treasure-cham- 
ber, and  the  wife  laid  herself  down  again  by  her 
husband.  Presently  the  man  began  to  move,  when 
the  wife  immediately  cried  out,  '  Woe  is  me  !  woe  is 
me !  was  there  ever  such  a  man  *? '  And  the  man 
said,  '  What  is  the  matter  now  1 '  The  wife  replied, 
■  The  point  of  my  tongue,  and  the  tip  of  my  nose, 
both  these  thou  hast  bitten  off.    What  can  a  woman 


118  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

do  without  these  two  things  1  To-morrow  the  Chan 
shall  be  made  acquainted  with  this  conduct.'  Thus 
spake  she,  and  the  younger  brother  fled  from  the 
treasure-chamber  without  stealing  anything. 

"  On  the  following  morning  the  woman  presented 
herself  before  the  Chan,  and  addressed  him,  saying, 
'  My  husband  has  this  night  treated  me  shamefully. 
Whatsoever  punishment  may  be  awarded  to  him,  I 
myself  will  see  it  inflicted.' 

"  But  the  husband  persisted  in  asserting,  *  Of  all 
this  I  know  nothing ! '  Because  the  complaint  of  the 
wife. seemed  well-founded,  and  the  man  could  not 
exculpate  himself,  the  Chan  said,  'Because  of  his 
evil  deeds,  let  this  man  be  burnt." 

"When  the  younger  brother  heard  what  had 
befallen  the  elder,  he  went  to  see  him.  And  after 
the  younger  one  had  related  to  him  all  the  aff'air, 
he  betook  himself  unto  the  Chan,  saying,  '  That  the 
evil-doer  may  be  really  discovered,  let  both  the 
woman  and  her  husband  be  summoned  before  you  ; 
I  will  clear  up  the  mystery.' 

"When  they  were  both  present,  the  younger 
brother  related  the  wife's  visit  to  the  dead  man, 
and  because  the  Chan  would  not  give  credence  unto 
his  story,  he  said  :  '  In  the  mouth  of  the  dead  man 
you  will  find  the  end  of  the  woman's  tongue  ;  and 
the  blood-soiled  tip  of  her  nose  you  will  find  in  the 
pincers  of  brass.  Send  thither,  and  see  if  it  be  not 
so.' 


THE  RELATIONS   OF   SSIDI  KUR.  119 

"  Thus  spake  he,  and  people  were  sent  to  the 
place,  and  confirmed  all  that  he  had  asserted.  Upon 
this  the  Chan  said,  '  Since  the  matter  stands  thus, 
let  the  woman  be  placed  upon  the  pile  of  fagots 
and  consumed  with  fire.'  And  the  woman  was 
placed  upon  the  pile  of  fagots  and  consumed  with 
fire." 

"  That  served  her  right !  "  said  the  Son  of  the 
Chan. 

"  Euler  of  Destiny,  thou  hast  spoken  words ! 
Ssarwala  missdood  jakzang !  "  Thus  spake  Ssidi, 
and  burst  from  the  sack  throus-h  the  air. 

Thus  Ssidi's  tenth  relation  treats  of  the  Man  and 
his  Wife. 

Of  the  Maiden  Ssuwarandari. 

When  the  Sou  of  the  Chan  was  carrying  off  Ssidi, 
as  formerly,  Ssidi  related  the  following  tale : — 

"  A  long  while  ago,  there  was  in  the  A^ery  centre 
of  a  certain  kingdom  an  old  pagoda,  in  which  stood 
the  image  of  Choschim  Bodissadoh  (a  Mongolian 
idol),  formed  of  clay.  Near  unto  this  pagoda  stood 
a  small  house,  in  which  a  beautiful  maiden  resided 
with  her  aged  parents.  But  at  the  mouth  of  the 
river,  which  ran  thereby,  dwelt  a  poor  man,  who 
maintained  himself  by  selling  fruit,  which  he  carried 
in  an  ark  upon  the  river. 

"  Now  it  happened  once,  that  as  he  was  returning 


120  OKIENTAL    FOLKLORE   TALES. 

home  he  was  benighted  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
pagoda.  He  listened  at  the  door  of  the  house  in 
which  the  two  old  people  dwelt,  and  heard  the  old 
woman  say  unto  her  husband,  '  We  are  both  grown 
exceedingly  old  ;  could  we  now  but  provide  for  our 
daughter,  it  would  be  well' 

" '  That  we  have  lived  so  long  happily  together,' 
said  the  old  man,  '  we  are  indebted  to  the  talisman 
of  our  daughter.  Let  us,  however,  offer  up  sacrifice 
to  Bodissadoh,  and  inquire  of  him  to  what  condition 
we  shall  dedicate  our  daughter — to  the  spiritual 
or  to  the  •  worldly.  To-morrow,  at  the  earliest 
dawn,  we  will  therefore  lay  our  offering  before  the 
Burchan.' 

"  '  Now  know  I  what  to  do,'  said  the  listener  :  so 
in  the  night-time  he  betook  himself  to  the  pagoda, 
made  an  opening  in  the  back  of  the  idol,  and  con- 
cealed himself  therein.  When  on  the  following 
morning  the  two  old  people  and  the  daughter  drew 
nigh  and  made  their  offering,  the  father  bowed  him- 
self to  the  earth  and  spake  as  follows  : — 

" '  Deified  Bodissadoh  !  shall  this  maiden  be  de- 
voted to  a  spiritual  or  worldly  life  1  If  she  is  to  be 
devoted  to  a  worldly  life,  vouchsafe  to  point  out 
now  or  hereafter,  in  a  dream  or  vision,  to  whom  we 
shall  give  her  to  wife.' 

"Then  he  who  was  concealed  in  the  image  ex- 
claimed, *  It  is  better  that  thy  daughter  be  devoted 
to  a  worldly  life.    Therefore,  give  her  to  wife  to  the 


THE   RELATIONS   OF   SSIDl   KUK.  12l 

first  man  who  presents  himself  at  thy  door  in  the 
morning.' 

"  The  old  people  were  greatly  rejoiced  when  they 
heard  these  words ;  and  they  bowed  themselves 
again  and  again  down  to  the  earth,  and  walked 
around  the  idol. 

"  On  the  following  morning  the  man  stepped  out 
of  the  idol  and  knocked  at  the  door  of  the  aged 
couple.  The  old  woman  went  out,  and  when  she 
saw  that  it  was  a  man,  she  turned  back  again,  and 
said  to  her  husband,  '  The  words  of  the  Burchan 
are  fulfilled  ;  the  man  has  arrived.' 

"  '  Give  him  entrance  ! '  said  the  old  man.  The 
man  came  in  accordingly,  and  was  welcomed  with 
food  and  drink ;  and  when  they  had  told  him  all 
that  the  idol  had  said,  he  took  the  maiden-  with  the 
talisman  to  wife. 

"  When  he  was  wandering  forth  and  drev.^  nigh 
unto  his  dwelling,  he  thought  unto  himself,  *  I  have 
with  cunning  obtained  the  daughter  of  the  two  old 
people.  Now  I  will  place  the  maiden  in  the  ark, 
and  conceal  the  ark  in  the  sand.' 

"So  he  concealed  the  ark,  and  went  and  said 
unto  the  people,  '  Though  I  have  ever  acted  pro- 
perly, still  it  has  never  availed  me  yet.  I  will 
therefore  now  seek  to  obtain  liberal  gifts  through 
my  prayers.'  Thus  spake  he,  and  after  repeating 
the  Zoka-prayers  (part  of  the  Calmuc  ritual),  he 
obtained  food   and  gifts,  and  said,   '  To-morrow  I 


122  OEIENTAL  FOLKLOEE   TALES. 

will  again  wander  around,  repeat  the  appointed 
Zoka-prayers,  and  seek  food  again.' 

"In  the  meanwhile  it  happened  that  the  son  of  the 
Chan  and  two  of  his  companions,  with  bows  and 
arrows  in  their  hands,  who  were  following  a  tiger, 
passed  by  unnoticed,  and  arrived  at  the  sand-heap 
of  the  maiden  Ssuwarandari.  '  Let  us  shoot  at  that 
heap  !  '  cried  they.  Thus  spake  they,  and  shot 
accordingly,  and  lost  their  arrows  in  the  sand.  As 
they  were  looking  after  the  arrows,  they  found  the 
ark,  opened  it,  and  drew  out  the  maiden  with  the 
talisman. 

"  '  Who  art  thou,  maiden  ? '  inquired  they.  *  I 
am  the  daughter  of  Lu.'  The  Chan's  son  said, 
'  Come  with  me,  and  be  my  wife.'  And  the  maiden 
said,  '  I  cannot  go  unless  another  is  placed  in  the 
ark  instead  of  me.'  So  they  all  said,  '  Let  us  put 
in  the  tiger.'  And  when  the  tiger  was  placed  in 
the  ark,  the  Chan's  son  took  away  with  him  the 
maiden,  and  the  talisman  with  her. 

"  In  the  meanwhile  the  beggar  ended  his  prayers ; 
and  when  he  had  done  so,  he  thought  unto  himself, 
'  If  I  take  the  talisman,  slay  the  maiden,  and  sell 
the  talisman,  of  a  surety  I  shall  become  rich  indeed.' 
Thus  thinking  he  drew  nigh  unto  the  sand-heap, 
drew  forth  the  ark,  carried  it  home  with  him,  and 
said  unto  his  wife,  who  he  thought  was  within  the 
ark,  '  I  shall  pass  this  night  in  repeating  the  Zoka- 
prayers.'     He  threw  off  his  upper  garment.      And 


THE   RELATIONS    OF   SSIDI   KUR.  123 

when  he  had  done  so,  he  lifted  off  the  cover  of  the 
ark,  and  said,  *  Maiden,  be  not  alarmed  1  '  When 
he  was  thus  speaking,  he  beheld  the  tiger. 

"  When  some  persons  went  into  the  chamber  on 
the  following  morning,  they  found  a  tiger  with  his 
tusks  and  claws  covered  with  blood,  and  the  body 
of  the  beggar  torn  into  pieces. 

"  And  the  wife  of  the  Chan  gave  birth  to  three 
sons,  and  lived  in  the  enjoymxent  of  plenty  of  all 
things.  But  the  ministers  and  the  people  mur- 
mured, and  said,  '  It  was  not  well  of  the  Chan 
that  he  drew  forth  his  wife  out  of  the  earth.  Al- 
though the  wife  of  the  Chan  has  given  birth  to  the 
sons  of  the  Chan,  still  she  is  but  a  low-born  creature.' 
Thus  spoke  they,  and  the  wife  of  the  Chan  received 
little  joy  therefrom.  '  I  have  borne  three  sons,' 
said  she,  *  and  yet  am  noways  regarded ;  I  will 
therefore  return  home  to  my  parents.' 

"She  left  the  palace  on  the  night  of  the  full 
moon,  and  reached  the  neighbourhood  of  her  parents 
at  noontide.  Where  there  had  formerly  been  no- 
thing to  be  seen  she  saw  a  multitude  of  workmen 
busily  employed,  and  among  them  a  man  having 
authority,  who  prepared  meat  and  drink  for  them. 
'  Who  art  thou,  maiden  ? '  inquired  this  man.  '  I 
come  far  from  hence,'  replied  the  wife  of  the  Chan ; 
*  but  my  parents  formerly  resided  upon  this  moun- 
tain, and  I  have  come  hither  to  seek  them.' 

"At  these  words  the  young  man  said,  'Thou  art 


124  OElENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

then  their  daughter  1 '  and  he  received  for  answer, 
*I  am  their  daughter.' 

" '  I  am  their  son/  said  he.  '  I  have  been  told 
that  I  had  a  sister  older  than  myself.  Art  thou 
she  ?  Sit  thee  down,  partake  of  this  meat  and  this 
drink,  and  we  will  then  go  together  unto  our 
parents.' 

"When  the  wife  of  the  Chan  arrived  at  the 
summit  of  the  mountain,  she  found  in  the  place 
where  the  old  pagoda  stood  a  number  of  splendid 
buildings,  with  golden  towers  full  of  bells.  And 
the  hut  of  her  parents  was  changed  into  a  lordly- 
mansion.  '  All  this,'  said  her  brother,  '  belongs  to 
us,  since  you  took  your  departure.  Our  parents 
lived  here  in  health  and  peace.' 

"  In  the  palace  there  were  horses  and  mules,  and 
costly  furniture  in  abundance.  The  father  and 
mother  were  seated  on  rich  pillows  of  silk,  and  gave 
their  daughter  welcome,  saying,  '  Thou  art  still  well 
and  happy.  That  thou  hast  returned  home  before 
w^e  depart  from  this  life  is  of  a  surety  very  good.' 

"  After  various  inquiries  had  been  made  on  both 
sides,  relative  to  what  had  transpired  during  the 
separation  of  the  parties,  the  old  parents  said,  '  Let 
us  make  these  things  known  unto  the  Chan  and  his 
ministers.' 

"  So  the  Chan  and  his  ministers  were  loaded  with 
presents,  and  three  nights  afterwards  they  were 
welcomed  with  meat  and  drink  of  the  best.     But 


THE   RELATIONS   OF   SSIDI   KUR.  125 

the  Chan  said,  '  Ye  have  spoken  falsely,  the  wife 
of  the  Chan  had  no  parents.'  Now  the  Chan 
departed  with  his  retinue,  and  his  wife  said,  '  I  will 
stop  one  more  night  with  my  parents,  and  then  I 
will  return  unto  you.' 

"  On  the  following  morning  the  wife  of  the  Chan 
found  herself  on  a  hard  bed,  without  pillows  or 
coverlets.  '  What  is  this  1 '  exclaimed  she ;  '  was 
I  not  this  night  with  my  father  and  mother — and 
did  I  not  retire  to  sleep  on  a  bed  of  silk  1  * 

"  And  when  she  rose  up  she  beheld  the  ruined 
hut  of  her  parents.  Her  father  and  mother  were 
dead,  and  their  bones  mouldered ;  their  heads  lay 
upon  a  stone.  Weeping  loudly,  she  said  unto  her- 
self, *I  will  now  look  after  the  pagoda.'  But  she 
saw  nothing  but  the  ruins  of  the  pagoda  and  of 
the  Burchan.  '  A  godly  providence,'  exclaimed  she, 
'  has  resuscitated  my  parents.  Now  since  the  Chan 
and  the  ministers  will  be  pacified,  I  will  return 
home  again.' 

On  her  arrival  in  the  kingdom  of  her  husband, 
the  ministers  and  the  people  came  forth  to  meet 
her,  and  walked  around  her.  'This  wife  of  the 
Chan,'  cried  they,  '  is  descended  from  noble  parents, 
has  borne  noble  sons,  and  is  herself  welcome, 
pleasant,  and  charming.'  Thus  speaking,  they 
accompanied  the  wife  of  the  Chan  to  the  palace." 

"  Her  merits  must  have  been  great."  Thus  spake 
the  Son  of  the  Chan. 


126  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE  TALES. 

"Euler  of  Destiny,  thou  hast  spoken  words, 
Ssarwala  missdood  jakzang  ! '  Thus  spake  Ssidi,  and 
burst  from  the  sack  through  the  air. 

Thus  Ssidi's  eleventh  relation  treats  of  the  Maiden 
Ssuvvarandari. 


THE  TWO  CATS. 

In  former  days  there  was  an  old  woman,  who  lived 
in  a  hut  more  confined  than  the  minds  of  the  igno- 
rant, and  more  dark  than  the  tombs  of  misers.  Her 
companion  was  a  cat,  from  the  mirror  of  whose 
imagination  the  appearance  of  bread  had  never  been 
reflected,  nor  had  she  from  friends  or  strangers  ever 
heard  its  name.  It  was  enough  that  she  now  and 
then  scented  a  mouse,  or  observed  the  print  of  its 
feet  on  the  floor ;  when,  blessed  by  favouring  stars 
or  benignant  fortune,  one  fell  into  her  claws — 

"  She  became  hke  a  beggar  who  discovers  a  treasure  of 
gold; 
Her  cheeks  glowed  with  rapture,  and  past  grief  was 
consumed  by  present  joy." 

This  feast  would  last  for  a  week  or  more  ;  and  while 
enjoying  it  she  was  wont  to  exclaim — 

"  Am  I,  0  God,  when  I  contemplate  this,  in  a  dream  or 
awake  ? 
Am  I  to  experience   such  prosperity  after    such   ad- 
versity ?  " 

But  as  the   dwelling  of  the  old  woman  was  in 
general  the  mansion  of  famine  to  this  cat,  she  was 


128  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

always  complaining,  and  forming  extravagant  and 
fanciful  schemes.  One  day,  when  reduced  to  extreme 
weakness,  she,  with  much  exertion,  reached  the  top 
of  the  hut ;  when  there  she  observed  a  cat  stalking 
on  the  wall  of  a  neighbour's  house,  which,  like  a 
fierce  tiger,  advanced  with  measured  steps,  and  was 
so  loaded  with  flesh  that  she  could  hardly  raise  her 
feet.  The  old  woman's  friend  was  amazed  to  see 
one  of  her  own  species  so  fat  and  sleek,  and  broke 
out  into  the  following  exclamation  : — 

♦'  Your  stately  strides  have  brought  you  here  at  last  ;  pray 
tell  me  from  whence  you  come  ? 
From  whence  have  you  arrived  with  so  lovely  an  appear- 
ance? 
You  look  as  if  from  the  banquet  of  the  Khan  of  Khatai 
"Where  have  you  acquired  such  a  comeliness?  and  how 
came  you  by  that  glorious  strength  ?  " 

The  other  answered,  "  I  am  the  Sultan's  crumb- 
eater.  Each  morning,  when  they  spread  the  con- 
vivial table,  I  attend  at  the  palace,  and  there  exhibit 
my  address  and  courage.  From  among  the  rich 
meats  and  wheat-cakes  I  cull  a  few  choice  morsels; 
I  then  retire  and  pass  my  time  till  next  day  in 
delightful  indolence." 

The  old  dame's  cat  requested  to  know  what  rich 
meat  was,  and  what  taste  wheat-cakes  had "?  "As  for 
me,"  she  added,  in  a  melancholy  tone,  "  during  my 
life  I  have  neither  eaten  nor  seen  anything  but  the 
old  woman's  gruel  and  the  flesh  of  mice."  The 
other,  smiling,  said,  "  This  accounts  for  the  difficulty 


THE  TWO   CATS.  129 

I  find  in  distinguishing  you  from  a  spider.  Your 
shape  and  stature  is  such  as  must  make  the  whole 
generation  of  cats  blush;  and  we  must  ever  feel 
ashamed  while  you  carry  so  miserable  an  appearance 
abroad. 

You  certainly  have  the  ears  and  tail  of  a  cat, 
But  in  other  respects  you  are  a  complete  spider. 

Were  you  to  see  the  Sultan's  palace,  and  to  smell 
his  delicious  viands,  most  undoubtedly  those 
withered  bones  would  be  restored;  you  would  re- 
ceive new  life;  you  would  come  from  behind  the 
curtain  of  invisibility  into  the  plane  of  observation — 

When  the  perfume  of  his  beloved  passes  over  the  tomb  of 
a  lover, 

Is  it  wonderful  that  his  putrid  bones  should  be  re-ani- 
mated ?  " 

The  old  woman's  cat  addressed  the  other  in  the 
most  supplicating  manner  :  "  0  my  sister !  "  she 
exclaimed,  "  have  I  not  the  sacred  claims  of  a  neigh- 
bour upon  you  1  are  we  not  linked  in  the  ties  of 
kindred?  What  prevents  your  giving  a  proof  of 
friendship,  by  taking  me  with  you  when  next  you 
visit  the  palace  ^  Perhaps  from  your  favour  plenty 
may  flow  to  me,  and  from  your  patronage  I  may 
attain  dignity  and  honour. 

"Withdraw  not  from  the  friendship  of  the  honourable  ; 
Abandon  not  the  support  of  the  elect." 

The  heart  of  the  Sultan's  crumb-eater  was  melted 

Oriental.  y 


130  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

by  this  pathetic  address;  she  promised  her  new- 
friend  should  accompany  her  on  the  next  visit  to 
the  palace.  The  latter,  overjoyed,  went  down  imme- 
diately from  the  terrace,  and  communicated  every 
particular  to  the  old  woman,  who  addressed  her 
with  the  following  counsel : — 

"Be  not  deceived,  my  dearest  friend,  with  the 
worldly  language  you  have  listened  to;  abandon 
not  your  corner  of  content,  for  the  cup  of  the  cove- 
tous is  only  to  be  filled  by  the  dust  of  the  grave, 
and  the  eye  of  cupidity  and  hope  can  only  be  closed 
by  the  needle  of  mortality  and  the  thread  of  fate. 

It  is  content  that  makes  men  rich ; 
Mark  this,  ye  avaricious,  who  traverse  the  world : 
He  neither  knows  nor  pays  adoration  to  his  God 
Who  is  dissatisfied  with  his  condition  and  fortune." 

But  the  expected  feast  had  taken  such  possession 
of  poor  puss's  imagination,  that  the  medicinal  counsel 
of  the  old  woman  was  thrown  away. 

"The  good  advice  of  all  the  world  is  like  wind  in  a  cage, 
Or  water  in  a  sieve,  when  bestowed  on  the  headstrong." 

To  conclude  :  next  day,  accompanied  by  her  com- 
panion, the  half-starved  cat  hobbled  to  the  Sultan's 
palace.  Before  this  unfortunate  wretch  came,  as  it 
is  decreed  that  the  covetous  shall  be  disappointed, 
an  extraordinary  event  had  occurred,  and,  owing  to 
her  evil  destiny,  the  water  of  disappointment  was 
poured  on  the  flame  of  her  immature  ambition. 
The  case  was  this :  a  whole  ledon  of  cats  had  the 


THE  TWO   CATS.  131 

day  before  surrounded  the  feast,  and  made  so  much 
noise  that  they  disturbed  the  guests ;  and  in  con- 
sequence the  Sultan  had  ordered  that  some  archers 
armed  with  bows  from  Tartary  should,  on  this  day, 
be  concealed,  and  that  whatever  cat  advanced  into 
the  field  of  valour,  covered  with  the  shield  of  auda- 
city, should,  on  eating  the  first  morsel,  be  overtaken 
with  their  arrows.  The  old  dame's  puss  was  not 
aware  of  this  order.  The  moment  the  flavour  of  the 
viands  reached  her,  she  flew  like  an  eagle  to  the 
place  of  her  prey. 

Scarcely  had  the  weight  of  a  mouthful  been 
placed  in  the  scale  to  balance  her  hunger,  when  a 
heart-dividing  arrow  pierced  her  breast. 

A  stream  of  blood  rushed  from  the  wound. 

She  fled,  in  dread  of  death,  after  having  exclaimed, 

"Should  I  escape  from  this  terrific  archer, 

I  will  be  satisfied  with  my  mouse  and  the  miserable 

hut  of  my  old  mistress. 
My  soul  rejects  the  honey  if  accompanied  by  the  sting. 
Content,  with  the  most  frugal  fare,  is  preferable  " 


LEGEND  OF  DHUEEUMNATH. 

During  the  reign  of  a  miglity  rajah  named  Guddeh 
Sing,  a  celebrated,  and  as  it  is  now  supposed,  deified 
priest,  or  hutteet,  called  Dhurrumnath,  came,  and 
in  all  the  characteristic  humility  of  his  sect  estab- 
lished a  primitive  and  temporary  resting-place 
within  a  few  miles  of  the  rajah's  residence  at  Eunn, 
near  Mandavie.  He  was  accompanied  by  his 
adopted  son,  Ghurreeb  Nath. 

From  this  spot  Dhurrumnath  despatched  his  son 
to  seek  for  charitable  contributions  from  the  in- 
habitants of  the  town.  To  this  end  Ghurreeb 
Nath  made  several  visits;  but  being  unsuccessful, 
and  at  the  same  time  unwilling  that  his  father 
should  know  of  the  want  of  liberality  in  the  city, 
he  at  each  visit  purchased  food  out  of  some  limited 
funds  of  his  own.  At  length,  his  little  hoard  failing, 
on  the  sixth  day  he  was  obliged  to  confess  the 
deceit  he  had  practised. 

Dhurrumnath,  on  being  acquainted  with  this, 
became  extremely  vexed,  and  vowed  that  from  that 
day  all  the  rajah's  putteen    cities  should   become 

132 


LEGEND   OF  DHURRUMNATH.  133 

desolate  and  ruined.  The  tradition  goes  on  to 
state  that  in  due  time  these  cities  were  destroyed ; 
Dhurrumnath,  accompanied  by  his  son,  left  the 
neighbourhood,  and  proceeded  to  Denodur.  Finding 
it  a  desirable  place,  he  determined  on  performing 
Tupseeah,  or  penance,  for  twelve  years,  and  chose 
the  form  of  standing  on  his  head. 

On  commencing  to  carry  out  this  determination, 
he  dismissed  his  son,  who  established  his  Doonee 
in  the  jungles,  about  twenty  miles  to  the  north-west 
of  Bhooj.  After  Dhurrumnath  had  remained  Tup- 
seeah for  twelve  years,  he  was  visited  by  all  the 
angels  from  heaven,  who  besought  him  to  rise;  to 
which  he  replied,  that  if  he  did  so,  the  portion  of 
the  country  on  which  his  sight  would  first  rest 
would  become  barren :  if  villages,  they  would  dis- 
appear ;  if  woods  or  fields,  they  would  equally  be 
destroyed.  The  angels  then  told  him  to  turn  his 
head  to  the  north-east,  where  flowed  the  sea. 
Upon  this  he  resumed  his  natural  position,  and, 
turning  his  head  in  the  direction  he  was  told, 
opened  his  eyes,  when  immediately  the  sea  dis- 
appeared, the  stately  ships  became  wrecks,  and 
their  crews  were  destroyed,  leaving  nothing  behind 
but  a  barren,  unbroken  desert,  known  as  the 
Runn. 

Dhurrumnath,  too  pure  to  remain  on  the  earth, 
partook  of  an  immediate  and  glorious  immortality, 
being  at  once  absorbed  into  the  spiritual  nature  of 


134  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

the  creating,  the  finishing,  the  indivisible,  all-per- 
vading Brum. 

This  self-imposed  penance  of  Dhurruranath  has 
shed  a  halo  of  sanctity  around  the  hill  of  Denodur, 
and  was  doubtless  the  occasion  of  its  having  been 
selected  as  a  fitting  site  for  a  Jogie  establishment, 
the  members  of  which,  it  is  probable,  were  origin- 
ally the  attendants  on  a  small  temple  that  had  been 
erected,  and  which  still  remains,  on  the  highest 
point  of  Ijhe  hill,  on  the  spot  where  the  holy  Dhur- 
rumnath  is  said  to  have  performed  his  painful 
Tupseeah. 


THE  TEAVELLER'S  ADVENTURE. 

It  is  related  that  a  man,  mounted  upon  a  camel,  in 
the  course  of  travelling  arrived  at  a  place  where 
others  from  the  same  caravan  had  lighted  a  fire 
before  proceeding  on  their  journey.  The  fan-like 
wind,  breathing  on  the  embers,  had  produced  a 
flame ;  and  the  sparks,  flying  over  the  jungle,  the 
dry  wood  had  become  ignited,  and  the  whole  plain 
glowed  like  a  bed  of  tulips. 

In  the  midst  of  this  was  an  enormous  snake, 
which,  encircled  by  the  flames,  possessed  no  means  of 
escape,  and  was  about  to  be  broiled  like  a  fish,  or 
kabobed  like  a  partridge  for  the  table.  Blood  oozed 
from  its  poison-charged  eyes ;  and,  seeing  the  man 
and  the  camel,  it  thus  supplicated  for  assistance — 

"  What  if  in  kindness  thou  vouchsafe  me  thy  pity  ; 
Loosen  the  knot  with  which  my  affairs  are  entangled." 

Now  the  traveller  was  a  good  man,  and  one  who 
feared  God.  When  he  heard  the  complaint  of  the 
snake,  and  saw  its  pitiable  condition,  he  reasoned 
thus  with    himself :    "  This    snake   is,   indeed,   the 

135 


136  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

enemy  of  man,  but  being  in  trouble  and  perplexity, 
it  would  be  most  commendable  in  me  to  drop  the 
seed  of  compassion,  the  fruit  of  which  is  prosperity 
in  this  world,  and  exaltation  in  the  next."  Thus 
convinced,  he  fastened  one  of  his  saddle-bags  to  the 
end  of  his  spear,  and  extended  it  to  the  snake, 
which,  delighted  at  escape,  entered  the  bag,  and  was 
rescued  from  the  flames.  The  man  then  opening 
the  mouth  of  the  bag,  addressed  it  thus  :  "  Depart 
whither  thou  wilt,  but  forget  not  to  offer  up  thanks- 
giving for  thy  preservation;  henceforth  seek  the 
corner  of  retirement,  and  cease  to  afflict  mankind, 
for  they  who  do  so  are  dishonest  in  this  world  and 
the  next — 

Fear  God — distress  no  one  ; 
This  indeed  is  true  salvation." 

The  snake  replied,  "  0  young  man,  hold  thy 
peace,  for  truly  I  will  not  depart  until  I  have 
wounded  both  thee  and  this  camel." 

The  man  cried  out,  "  But  how  is  this  ?  Have  I 
not  rendered  thee  a  benefit  1  Why,  then,  is  such  to 
be  my  recompense  ? 

On  my  part  there  was  faithfulness, 
Why  then  this  injustice  upon  thine  ?  " 

The  snake  said,  "  True,  thou  hast  shown  mercy, 
but  it  was  to  an  unworthy  object;  thou  knowest 
me  to  be  an  agent  of  injury  to  mankind,  conse- 
quently, when   thou  savedst  me  from   destruction. 


THE  traveller's  ADVENTURE,  137 

thou  subjectedst  thyself  to  the  same  rule  that 
applies  to  the  punishment  due  for  an  evil  act  com- 
mitted against  a  worthy  object. 

"  Again,  between  the  snake  and  man  there  is  a 
long-standing  enmity,  and  they  who  employ  fore- 
sight hold  it  as  a  maxim  of  wisdom  to  bruise  the 
head  of  an  enemy ;  to  thy  security  my  destruction 
was  necessary,  but,  in  showing  mercy,  thou  hast 
forfeited  vigilance.  It  is  now  necessary  that  I 
should  wound  thee,  that  others  may  learn  by  thy 
example." 

The  man  cried,  "  0  snake,  call  but  in  the 
counsel  of  justice ;  in  what  creed  is  it  written,  or 
what  practice  declares,  that  evil  should  be  returned 
for  good,  or  that  the  pleasure  of  conferring  benefits 
should  be  returned  by  injury  and  affliction  ? " 

The  snake  replied,  "  Such  is  the  practice  amongst 
men.  I  act  according  to  thy  own  decree ;  the  same 
commodity  of  retribution  I  have  purchased  from 
thee  I  also  sell. 

Buy  for  one  moment  that  which  thou  sell'st  for  years." 

In  vain  did  the  traveller  entreat,  the  snake  ever 
replying,  "I  do  but  treat  thee  after  the  manner  of 
men."  This  the  man  denied.  "  But,"  said  he,  "  let 
us  call  witnesses  :  if  thou  prove  thy  assertion,  I  will 
yield  to  thy  will."  The  snake,  looking  round,  saw 
a  cow  grazing  at  a  distance,  and  said,  "  Come,  we 
will  ask  this  cow  the  rights  of  the  question."     When 


138  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

they  came  up  to  the  cow,  the  snake,  opening  its 
mouth,  said,  "  0  cow,  what  is  the  recompense  for 
benefits  received  1 " 

The  cow  said,  "  If  thou  ask  me  after  the  manner 
of  men,  the  return  of  good  is  always  evil.  For 
instance,  I  was  for  a  long  time  in  the  service  of  a 
farmer ;  yearly  I  brought  forth  a  calf;  I  supplied  his 
house  with  milk  and  ghee ;  his  sustenance,  and  the 
life  of  his  children,  depended  upon  me.  When  I 
became  old,  and  no  longer  produced  young,  he  ceased 
to  shelter  me,  and  thrust  me  forth  to  die  in  a  jungle. 
After  finding  forage,  and  roaming  at  my  ease,  I  grew 
fat,  and  my  old  master,  seeing  my  plump  condition, 
yesterday  brought  with  him  a  butcher,  to  whom  he 
has  sold  me,  and  to-day  is  appointed  for  my 
slaughter." 

The  snake  said,  "  Thou  hast  heard  the  cow ;  pre- 
pare to  die  quickly."  The  man  cried,  "It  is  not 
lawful  to  decide  a  case  on  the  evidence  of  one 
witness,  let  us  then  call  another."  The  snake  looked 
about  and  saw  a  tree,  leafless  and  bare,  flinging  up 
its  wild  branches  to  the  sky.  "Let  us,"  said  it, 
"  appeal  to  this  tree."  They  proceeded  together  to 
the  tree;  and  the  snake,  opening  its  mouth,  said, 
"  0  tree,  what  is  the  recompense  for  good  1 " 

The  tree  said,  "Amongst  men,  for  benefits  are 
returned  evil  and  injury.  I  will  give  you  a  proof  of 
what  I  assert.  I  am  a  tree  which,  though  growing 
on  one  leg  in  this  sad  waste,  was  once  flourishing 


THE  traveller's   ADVENTURE.  139 

and  green,  performing  service  to  every  one.  When 
any  of  the  human  race,  overcome  with  heat  and 
travel,  came  this  way,  they  rested  beneath  my  shade, 
and  slept  beneath  my  branches ;  when  the  weight  of 
repose  abandoned  their  eyelids,  they  cast  up  their 
eyes  to  me,  and  said  to  each  other,  '  Yon  twig  would 
do  well  for  an  arrow ;  that  branch  would  serve  for 
a  plough ;  and  from  the  trunk  of  this  tree  what 
beautiful  planks  might  be  made ! '  If  they  had  an 
axe  or  a  saw,  they  selected  my  branches,  and  carried 
them  away.  Thus  they  to  whom  I  gave  ease  and 
rest  rewarded  me  only  with  pain  and  affliction. 

Whilst  my  care  overshadows  him  in  perplexity, 
He  meditates  only  how  best  to  root  me  up." 

"  Well,"  said  the  snake,  "  here  are  two  witnesses ; 
therefore,  form  thy  resolution,  for  I  must  wound 
thee."  The  man  said,  "  True ;  but  the  love  of  life 
is  powerful,  and  while  strength  remains,  it  is  difficult 
to  root  the  love  of  it  from  the  heart.  Call  but  one 
more  witness,  and  then  I  pledge  myself  to  submit  to 
his  decree."  Now  it  so  wonderfully  happened  that 
a  fox,  who  had  been  standing  by,  had  heard  all  the 
argument,  and  now  came  forward.  The  snake  on 
seeing  it  exclaimed,  "Behold  this  fox,  let  us  ask 
it."  But  before  the  man  could  speak  the  fox 
cried  out,  "  Dost  thou  not  know  that  the  recompense 
for  good  is  always  evil  1  But  what  good  hast  thou 
done  in  behalf  of  this  snake,  to  render  thee  worthy 


140  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE  TALES. 

of  punishment  1 "  The  man  related  his  story.  The 
fox  replied,  "Thou  seemest  an  intelligent  person, 
why  then  dost  thou  tell  me  an  untruth  1 

How  can  it  be  proper  for  him  that  is  wise  to  speak  falsely  ? 
How  can  it  become  an  intelligent  man  to  state  an  untruth  ?  " 

The  snake  said,  "The  man  speaks  truly,  for 
behold  the  bag  in  which  he  rescued  me."  The 
fox,  putting  on  the  garb  of  astonishment,  said,  "  How 
can  I  believe  this  thing  1  How  could  a  large  snake 
such  as  thou  be  contained  in  so  small  a  space  ? " 
The  snake  said,  *'If  thou  doubt  me,  I  will  again 
enter  the  bag  to  prove  it. "  The  fox  said,  "  Truly  if 
I  saw  thee  there,  I  could  believe  it,  and  afterwards 
settle  the  dispute  between  thee  and  this  man."  On 
this  the  traveller  opened  the  bag,  and  the  snake, 
annoyed  at  the  disbelief  of  the  fox,  entered  it; 
which  observing,  the  fox  cried  out,  "0  young 
man,  when  thou  hast  caught  thine  enemy,  show  him 
no  quarter. 

When  an  enemy  is  vanquished,  and  in  thy  power. 
It  is  the  maxim  of  the  wise  to  show  him  no  mercy." 

The  traveller  took  the  hint  of  the  fox,  fastened 
the  mouth  of  the  bag,  and,  dashing  it  against  a 
stone,  destroyed  the  snake,  and  thus  saved  mankind 
from  the  evil  effects  of  its  wicked  propensities. 


THE  SEVEN  STAGES  OF  EOOSTEM. 

Persia  was  at  peace,  and  prosperous;  but  its 
king,  Ky-Kaoos,  could  never  remain  at  rest.  A 
favourite  singer  gave  him  one  day  an  animated 
account  of  the  beauties  of  the  neighbouring  kingdom 
of  Mazenderan  :  its  ever-blooming  roses,  its  melodious 
nightingales,  its  verdant  plains,  its  mountains  shaded 
with  lofty  trees,  and  adorned  to  their  summits  with 
flowers  which  perfumed  the  air,  its  clear  murmuring 
rivulets,  and,  above  all,  its  lovely  damsels  and  valiant 
warriors. 

All  these  were  described  to  the  sovereign  in  such 
glowing  colours  that  he  quite  lost  his  reason,  and 
declared  he  should  never  be  happy  till  his  power 
extended  over  a  country  so  favoured  by  Nature.  It 
was  in  vain  that  his  wisest  ministers  and  most 
attached  nobles  dissuaded  him  from  so  hazardous  an 
enterprise  as  that  of  invading  a  region  which  had, 
besides  other  defenders,  a  number  of  Deevs,  or 
demons,  who,  acting  under  their  renowned  chief, 
Deev-e-SefFeed,  or  the  White  Demon,  had  hitherto 
defeated  all  enemies. 

141 


142  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

Ky-Kaoos  would  not  listen  to  his  nobles,  who 
in  despair  sent  for  old  Zal,  the  father  of  Eoostem, 
and  prince  of  Seestan.  Zal  came,  and  used  all  his 
efforts,  but  in  vain ;  the  monarch  was  involved  in 
clouds  of  pride,  and  closed  a  discussion  he  had 
with  Zal  by  exclaiming,  "  The  Creator  of  the 
world  is  my  friend ;  the  chief  of  the  Deevs  is  my 
prey."  This  impious  boasting  satisfied  Zal  he  could 
do  no  good  ;  and  he  even  refused  to  become  regent 
of  Persia  in  the  absence  of  Ky-Kaoos,  but  promised 
to  aid  with  his  counsel. 

The  king  departed  to  anticipated  conquest ;  but 
the  prince  of  Mazenderan  summoned  his  forces,  and, 
above  all,  the  Deev-e-Seffeed  and  his  band.  They 
came  at  his  call :  a  great  battle  ensued,  in  which 
the  Persians  were  completely  defeated.  Ky-Kaoos 
was  made  prisoner,  and  confined  in  a  strong  fortress 
under  the  guard  of  a  hundred  Deevs,  commanded 
by  Arjeng,  who  was  instructed  to  ask  the  Persian 
monarch  every  morning  how  he  liked  the  roses, 
nightingales,  flowers,  trees,  verdant  meadows,  shady 
mountains,  clear  streams,  beautiful  damsels,  and 
valiant  warriors  of  Mazenderan. 

The  news  of  this  disaster  soon  spread  over  Persia, 
and  notwithstanding  the  disgust  of  old  Zal  at  the 
headstrong  folly  of  his  monarch,  he  was  deeply 
afflicted  at  the  tale  of  his  misfortune  and  disgrace. 
He  sent  for  Eoostem,  to  whom  he  said,  "  Go,  my 
son,  and  with  thy  single  arm,  and  thy  good  horse. 


THE  SEVEN  STAGES  OF  ROOSTEM.     143 

Reksh,  release  our  sovereign."  Roostem  instantly 
obeyed.  There  were  two  roads,  but  he  chose  the 
nearest,  though  it  was  reported  to  be  by  far  the 
most  difficult  and  dangerous. 

Fatigued  with  his  first  day's  journey,  Roostem 
lay  down  to  sleep,  having  turned  Reksh  loose  to 
graze  in  a  neighbouring  meadow,  where  he  was 
attacked  by  a  furious  lion;  but  this  wonderful 
horse,  after  a  short  contest,  struck  his  antagonist 
to  the  ground  with  a  blow  from  his  fore-hoof,  and 
completed  the  victory  by  seizing  the  throat  of  the 
royal  animal  with  his  teeth.  When  Roostem  awoke, 
he  was  surprised  and  enraged.  He  desired  Reksh 
never  again  to  attempt,  unaided,  such  an  encounter. 
"Hadst  thou  been  slain,"  asked  he  of  the  intelli- 
gent brute,  "  how  should  I  have  accomplished  my 
enterprise  *? " 

At  the  second  stage  Roostem  had  nearly  died  of 
thirst,  but  his  prayers  to  the  Almighty  were  heard. 
A  fawn  appeared,  as  if  to  be  his  guide;  and  following 
it,  he  was  conducted  to  a  clear  fountain,  where, 
after  regaling  on  the  flesh  of  a  wild  ass,  which  he 
had  killed  with  his  bow,  he  lay  down  to  sleep.  In 
the  middle  of  the  night  a  monstrous  serpent,  seventy 
yards  in  length,  came  out  of  its  hiding-place,  and 
made  at  the  hero,  who  was  awaked  by  the  neighing 
of  Reksh;  but  the  serpent  had  crept  back  to  its 
hiding-place,  and  Roostem,  seeing  no  danger,  abused 
his  faithful  horse  for  disturbing  his  repose.    Another 


144  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE  TALES. 

attempt  of  the  serpent  was  defeated  in  the  same 
way;  but  as  the  monster  had  again  concealed  it- 
self, Roostem  lost  all  patience  with  Reksh,  whom  he 
threatened  to  put  to  death  if  he  again  awaked  him 
by  any  such  unseasonable  noises.  The  faithful 
steed,  fearing  his  master's  rage,  but  strong  in  his 
attachment,  instead  of  neighing  when  the  serpent 
again  made  his  appearance,  sprang  upon  it,  and 
commenced  a  furious  contest.  Roostem,  hearing 
the  noise,  started  up  and  joined  in  the  combat. 
The  serpent  darted  at  him,  but  he  avoided  it,  and, 
while  his  noble  horse  seized  their  enemy  by  the 
back,  the  hero  cut  off  its  head  with  his  sword. 

When  the  serpent  was  slain,  Roostem  contem- 
plated its  enormous  size  with  amazement,  and,  with 
that  piety  which  always  distinguished  him,  returned 
thanks  to  the  Almighty  for  his  miraculous  escape. 

Next  day,  as  Roostem  sat  by  a  fountain,  he  saw 
a  beautiful  damsel  regaling  herself  with  wine.  He 
approached  her,  accepted  her  invitation  to  partake 
of  the  beverage,  and  clasped  her  in  his  arms  as  if 
she  had  been  an  angel.  It  happened,  in  the  course 
of  their  conversation,  that  the  Persian  hero  men- 
tioned the  name  of  the  great  God  he  adored.  At 
the  sound  of  that  sacred  word  the  fair  features  and 
shape  of  the  female  changed,  and  she  became  black, 
ugly,  and  deformed.  The  astonished  Roostem 
seized  her,  and  after  binding  her  hands,  bid  her 
declare  who  she  was.     "  I  am  a  sorceress,"  was  the 


THE   SEVEN   STAGES   OF   KOOSTEM.  145 

reply,  "  and  have  been  employed  by  the  evil  spirit 
Aharman  for  thy  destruction  ;  but  save  my  life,  and 
I  am  powerful  to  do  thee  service."  "I  make  no 
compact  with  the  devil  or  his  agents,"  said  the 
hero,  and  cut  her  in  twain.  He  again  poured  forth 
his  soul  in  thanksgiving  to  God  for  his  deliverance. 

On  his  fourth  stage  Eoostem  lost  his  way.  While 
wandering  about  he  came  to  a  clear  rivulet,  on  the 
banks  of  which  he  lay  down  to  take  some  repose, 
having  first  turned  Eeksh  loose  into  a  field  of  grain. 
A  gardener  who  had  charge  of  it  came  and  awoke 
the  hero,  telling  him  in  an  insolent  tone  that  he 
would  soon  suffer  for  his  temerity,  as  the  field  in 
which  his  horse  was  feeding  belonged  to  a  pehloovan, 
or  warrior,  called  Oulad.  Eoostem,  always  iras- 
cible, but  particularly  so  when  disturbed  in  his 
slumbers,  jumped  up,  tore  off  the  gardener's  ears, 
and  gave  him  a  blow  Avith  his  fist  that  broke  his 
nose  and  teeth.  "  Take  these  marks  of  my  temper 
to  your  master,"  he  said,  "  and  tell  him  to  come 
here,  and  he  shall  have  a  similar  welcome." 

Oulad,  when  informed  of  what  had  passed,  was 
excited  to  fury,  and  prepared  to  assail  the  Persian 
hero,  who,  expecting  him,  had  put  on  his  armour 
and  mounted  Eeksh.  His  appearance  so  dismayed 
Oulad  that  he  dared  not  venture  on  the  combat  till 
he  had  summoned  his  adhereuLb.  They  all  fell 
upon  Eoostem  at  once ;  but  the  base-born  caitiffs 
were  scattered  like  chaff  before  the  wind;   many 

Oriental,  „ 


146  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

were  slain,  others  fled,  among  whom  Avas  their  chief. 
Him  Roostem  came  up  with  at  the  fifth  stage,  and 
having  thrown  his  noose  over  him,  took  him  prisoner. 
Oulad,  in  order  to  save  his  life,  not  only  gave  him 
full  information  of  the  place  where  his  sovereign 
was  confined,  and  of  the  strength  of  the  Deev-e- 
Sefi'eed,  but  offered  to  give  the  hero  every  aid  in 
the  accomplishment  of  his  perilous  enterprise.  This 
offer  was  accepted,  and  he  proved  a  most  useful 
auxiliary. 

On  the  sixth  day  they  saw  in  the  distance  the 
city  of  Mazenderan,  near  which  the  Deev-e-Seffeed 
resided.  Two  chieftains,  with  numerous  attendants, 
met  them ;  and  one  had  the  audacity  to  ride  up  to 
Roostem,  and  seize  him  by  the  belt.  That  chiefs 
fury  at  this  insolence  was  unbounded  ;  he  disdained, 
however,  to  use  his  arms  against  such  an  enemy, 
but,  seizing  the  miscreant's  head,  wrenched  it  from 
the  body,  and  hurled  it  at  his  companions,  who  fled 
in  terror  and  dismay  at  this  terrible  proof  of  the 
hero's  prowess. 

Roostem  proceeded,  after  this  action,  with  his 
guide  to  the  castle  where  the  king  was  confined. 
The  Deevs  who  guarded  it  were  asleep,  and  Ky- 
Kaoos  was  found  in  a  solitary  cell,  chained  to  the 
ground.  He  recognised  Roostem,  and  bursting  into 
tears,  pressed  his  deliverer  to  his  bosom.  Roostem 
immediately  began  to  knock  off  his  chains.  The 
noise  occasioned  by  this  awoke  the  Deevs,  whose 


THE   SEVEN  STAGES  OF  ROOSTEM.  147 

leader,  Beedar-Eeng,  advanced  to  seize  Roostem  ; 
but  the  appearance  and  threats  of  the  latter  so 
overawed  him  that  he  consented  to  purchase  his  own 
safety  by  the  instant  release  of  the  Persian  king 
and  all  his  followers. 

After  this  achievement  Roostem  proceeded  to  the 
last  and  greatest  of  his  labours,  the  attack  of  the 
Deev-e-Seffeed.  Oulad  told  him  that  the  Deevs 
watched  and  feasted  during  the  night,  but  slept 
during  the  heat  of  the  day,  hating  (according  to 
our  narrator)  the  sunbeams.  Roostem,  as  he  ad- 
vanced, saw  an  immense  army  drawn  out ;  he 
thought  it  better,  before  he  attacked  them,  to  re- 
fresh himself  by  some  repose.  Having  laid  himself 
down,  he  soon  fell  into  a  sound  sleep,  and  at  day- 
light he  awoke  quite  refreshed.  As  soon  as  the 
sun  became  warm,  he  rushed  into  the  camp.  The 
heavy  blows  of  his  mace  soon  awoke  the  surprised 
and  slumbering  guards  of  the  Deev-e-Seffeed ;  they 
collected  in  myriads,  hoping  to  impede  his  progress, 
but  all  in  vain.  The  rout  became  general,  and 
none  escaped  but  those  who  fled  from  the  field  of 
battle. 

When  this  army  was  dispersed,  Roostem  went  in 
search  of  the  Deev-e-Seffeed,  who,  ignorant  of  the 
fate  of  his  followers,  slumbered  in  the  recess  of  a 
cavern,  the  entrance  to  which  looked  so  dark  and 
gloomy  that  the  Persian  hero  hesitated  whether  he 
should  advance ;  but  the  noise  of  his  approach  had 


148  ORIENTAL  FOLKLOEE  TALES. 

roused  his  enemy,  who  came  forth,  clothed  in  com- 
plete armour.  His  appearance  was  terrible;  but 
Roostem,  recommending  his  soul  to  God,  struck  a 
desperate  blow,  which  separated  the  leg  of  the  Deev 
from  his  body.  This  would  on  common  occasions 
have  terminated  the  contest,  but  far  different  was 
the  result  on  the  present.  Irritated  to  madness  by 
the  loss  of  a  limb,  the  monster  seized  his  enemy  in 
his  arms,  and  endeavoured  to  throw  him  down. 
The  struggle  was  for  some  time  doubtful  ;  but 
Roostem,  collecting  all  his  strength,  by  a  wondrous 
effort  dashed  his  foe  to  the  ground,  and  seizing  him 
by  one  of  the  horns,  unsheathed  his  dagger  and 
stabbed  him  to  the  heart.  The  Deev-e-Seffeed 
instantly  expired ;  and  Roostem,  on  looking  round 
to  the  entrance  of  the  cavern,  from  whence  the 
moment  before  he  had  seen  numberless  Deevs  issuing 
to  the  aid  of  their  lord,  perceived  they  were  all 
dead.  Oulad,  who  stood  at  a  prudent  distance 
from  the  scene  of  combat,  now  advanced  and  in- 
formed the  hero  that  the  lives  of  all  the  Deevs 
depended  upon  that  of  their  chief.  When  he  was 
slain,  the  spell  which  created  and  preserved  this 
band  was  broken,  and  they  all  expired. 

Roostem  found  little  difficulty  after  these  seven 
days  of  toil,  of  danger,  and  of  glory,  in  compelling 
Mazenderan  to  submit  to  Persia.  The  king  of  the 
country  was  slain,  and  Oulad  was  appointed  its 
governor  as  a  reward  for  his  fidelity. 


THE  SEVEN  STAGES   OF  ROOSTEM.  149 

The  success  of  his  arms  had  raised  Ky-Kaoos  to 
the  very  plenitude  of  power;  not  only  men,  but 
Deevs,  obeyed  his  mandates.  The  latter  he  em- 
ployed in  building  palaces  of  crystal,  emeralds,  and 
rubies,  till  at  last  they  became  quite  tired  of  their 
toil  and  abject  condition.  They  sought,  therefore, 
to  destroy  him ;  and  to  effect  this  they  consulted 
with  the  devil,  who,  to  forward  the  object,  instructed 
a  Deev,  called  Dizjkheem,  to  go  to  Ky-Kaoos  and 
raise  in  his  mind  a  passion  for  astronomy,  and  to 
promise  him  a  nearer  view  of  the  celestial  bodies 
than  had  ever  yet  been  enjoyed  by  mortal  eyes. 
The  Deev  fulfilled  his  commission  with  such  success 
that  the  king  became  quite  wild  with  a  desire  to 
attain  perfection  in  this  sublime  science.  The  devil 
then  instructed  Dizjkheem  to  train  some  young 
vultures  to  carry  a  throne  upwards ;  this  was  done 
by  placing  spears  round  the  throne,  on  the  points  of 
which  pieces  of  flesh  were  fixed  in  view  of  the  vul- 
tures, who  were  fastened  at  the  bottom.  These 
voracious  birds,  in  their  efforts  to  reach  the  meat, 
raised  the  throne. 

Though  he  mounted  rapidly  for  a  short  time, 
the  vultures  became  exhausted,  and  finding  their 
efforts  to  reach  the  meat  hopeless,  discontinued 
them ;  this  altered  the  direction  and  equilibrium  of 
the  machine,  and  it  tossed  to  and  fro.  Ky-Kaoos 
would  have  been  cast  headlong  and  killed  had  he 
not  clung   to  it.     The  vultures,  not  being  able   to 


150  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

disengage  themselves,  flew  an  immense  way,  and  at 
last  landed  the  aff'righted  monarch  in  one  of  the 
woods  of  China.  Armies  marched  in  every  direction 
to  discover  and  release  the  sovereign,  who,  it  was 
believed,  had  again  fallen  into  the  hands  of  Deevs. 
He  was  at  last  found  and  restored  to  his  capital. 
Koostem,  we  are  told,  upbraided  his  folly,  saying — 


'  Have  you  managed  your  affairs  so  well  on  earth 
That  you  must  needs  try  your  hand  in  those  of 


heaven?" 


THE  MAN  WHO  NEYEE  LAUGHED. 

There  was  a  man,  of  those  possessed  of  houses  and 
riches,  who  had  wealth  and  servants  and  slaves  and 
other  possessions  ;  and  he  departed  from  the  world 
to  receive  the  mercy  of  God  (whose  name  be  ex- 
alted !),  leaving  a  young  son.  And  when  the  son 
grew  up,  he  took  to  eating  and  drinking,  and  the 
hearing  of  instruments  of  music  and  songs,  and  was 
liberal  and  gave  gifts,  and  expended  the  riches  that 
his  father  had  left  to  him  until  all  the  wealth  had 
gone.  He  then  betook  himself  to  the  sale  of  the 
male  black  slaves,  and  the  female  slaves,  and  other 
possessions,  and  expended  all  that  he  had  of  his 
father's  wealth  and  other  things,  and  became  so 
poor  that  he  worked  with  the  labourers.  In  this 
state  he  remained  for  a  period  of  years.  While  he 
was  sitting  one  day  beneath  a  wall,  waiting  to  see 
who  would  hire  him,  lo  !  a  man  of  comely  counten- 
ance and  apparel  drew  near  to  him  and  saluted 
him.  So  the  youth  said  to  him,  "0  uncle,  hast 
thou  known  me  before  now  ? "  The  man  answered 
him,  "I  have  not  known  thee,  0  my  son,  at  all; 

151 


152  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

but  I  see  the  traces  of  affluence  upon  thee,  though 
thou  art  in  this  condition."  The  young  man  re- 
plied, "0  uncle,  what  fate  and  destiny  have  ordained 
hath  come  to  pass.  But  hast  thou,  0  uncle,  0 
comely-faced,  any  business  in  which  to  employ 
me  1 "  The  man  said  to  him,  "  0  my  son,  I  desire 
to  employ  thee  in  an  easy  business."  The  youth 
asked,  "  And  what  is  it,  0  uncle  1 "  And  the  man 
answered  him,  "  I  have  with  me  ten  sheykhs  in  one 
abode,  and  we  have  no  one  to  perform  our  wants. 
Thou  shalt  receive  from  us,  of  food  and  clothing, 
what  will  suffice  thee,  and  shalt  serve  us,  and  thou 
shalt  receive  of  us  thy  portion  of  benefits  and 
money.  Perhaps,  also,  God  will  restore  to  thee 
thine  affluence  by  our  means."  The  youth  there- 
fore replied,  "  I  hear  and  obey."  The  sheykh  then 
said  to  him,  "  I  have  a  condition  to  impose  upon 
thee."  "  And  what  is  thy  condition,  0  uncle  1 " 
asked  the  youth.  He  answered  him,  "  0  my  son,  it 
is  that  thou  keep  our  secret  with  respect  to  the 
things  that  thou  shalt  see  us  do;  and  when  thou 
seest  us  weep,  that  thou  ask  us  not  respecting  the 
cause  of  our  weeping."  And  the  young  man  re- 
plied, "  Well,  0  uncle." 

So  the  sheykh  said  to  him,  "  0  my  son,  come 
with  us,  relying  on  the  blessing  of  God  (whose 
name  be  exalted  !)."  And  the  young  man  followed 
the  sheykh  until  the  latter  conducted  him  to  the 
bath ;  after  which  he  sent  a  man,  who  brought  him 


THE  MAN   WHO   NEVER  LAUGHED.  153 

a  comely  garment  of  linen,  and  he  clad  him  with  it, 
and  went  with  him  to  his  abode  and  his  associates. 
And  when  the  young  man  entered,  he  found  it  to 
be  a  high  mansion,  with  lofty  angles,  ample,  with 
chambers  facing  one  another,  and  saloons ;  and  in 
each  saloon  was  a  fountain  of  water,  and  birds  were 
warbling  over  it,  and  there  were  windows  overlook- 
ing, on  every  side,  a  beautiful  garden  within  the 
mansion.  The  sheykh  conducted  him  into  one  of  the 
chambers,  and  he  found  it  decorated  with  coloured 
marbles,  and  its  ceiling  ornamented  with  blue  and 
brilliant  gold,  and  it  was  spread  with  carpets  of 
silk ;  and  he  found  in  it  ten  sheykhs  sitting  facing 
one  another,  wearing  the  garments  of  mourning, 
weeping,  and  wailing.  So  the  young  man  wondered 
at  tlieir  case,  and  was  about  to  question  the  sheykh 
who  had  brought  him,  but  he  remembered  the 
condition,  and  therefore  withheld  his  tongue.  Then 
the  sheykh  committed  to  the  young  man  a  chest 
containing  thirty  thousand  pieces  of  gold,  sayin-g  to 
him,  "  0  my  son,  expend  upon  us  out  of  this  chest, 
and  upon  thyself,  according  to  what  is  just,  and  be 
thou  faithful,  and  take  care  of  that  wlrerewith  I 
have  intrusted  thee."  And  the  young  man  replied, 
"  I  hear  and  obey."  He  continued  to  expend  upon 
them  for  a  period  of  days  and  nights,  after  which 
one  of  them  died ;  whereupon  his  companions  took 
him,  and  washed  him  and  shrouded  him,  and  buried 
him  in  a  garden  behind  the   mansion.     And  death 


154  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

ceased  not  to  take  of  them  one  after  another,  until 
there  remained  only  the  sheykh  who  had  hired  the 
young  man.  So  he  remained  with  the  young  man 
in  that  mansion,  and  there  was  not  with  them  a 
third;  and  they  remained  thus  for  a  period  of 
years.  Then  the  sheykh  fell  sick;  and  when  the 
young  man  despaired  of  his  life,  he  addressed  him 
with  courtesy,  and  was  grieved  for  him,  and  said  to 
him,  "  0  uncle,  I  have  served  you,  and  not  failed  in 
your  service  one  hour  for  a  period  of  twelve  years, 
but  have  acted  faithfully  to  you,  and  served  you 
according  to  my  power  and  ability."  The  sheykh 
replied,  "  Yes,  0  my  son,  thou  hast  served  us  until 
these  sheykhs  have  been  taken  unto  God  (to  whom 
be  ascribed  might  and  glory !),  and  we  must  inevit- 
ably die."  And  the  young  man  said,  "  0  my  master, 
thou  art  in  a  state  of  peril,  and  I  desire  of  thee  that 
thou  inform  me  what  hath  been  the  cause  of  your 
weeping,  and  the  continuance  of  your  wailing  and 
your  mourning  and  your  sorrow."  He  replied,  "  O 
my  son,  thou  hast  no  concern  with  that,  and  require 
me  not  to  do  what  I  am  unable ;  for  I  have  begged 
God  (whose  name  be  exalted!)  not  to  afSict  any 
one  Avith  my  affliction.  Now  if  thou  desire  to  be 
safe  from  that  into  which  we  have  fallen,  open  not 
that  door,"  and  he  pointed  to  it  with  his  hand,  and 
cautioned  him  against  it ;  "  and  if  thou  desire  that 
what  hath  befallen  us  should  befall  thee,  open  it, 
and  thou  wilt  know  the  cause  of  that  which  thou 


THE  MAN  WHO   NEVER  LAUGHED.  155 

hast  beheld  in  our  conduct ;  but  thou  wilt  repent, 
when  repentance  will  not  avail  thee."  Then  the 
illness  increased  upon  the  sheykh,  and  he  died ; 
and  the  young  man  washed  him  with  his  own 
hands,  and  shrouded  him,  and  buried  him  by  his 
companions. 

He  remained  in  that  place,  possessing  it  and  all 
the  treasure  ;  but  notwithstanding  this,  he  was 
uneasy,  reflecting  upon  the  conduct  of  the  sheykhs. 
And  while  he  was  meditating  one  day  upon  the 
words  of  the  sheykh,  and  his  charge  to  him  not  to 
open  the  door,  it  occurred  to  his  mind  that  he 
might  look  at  it.  So  he  went  in  that  direction, 
and  searched  until  he  saw  an  elegant  door,  over 
which  the  spider  had  woven  its  webs,  and  upon  it 
were  four  locks  of  steel.  When  he  beheld  it,  he 
remembered  how  the  sheykh  had  cautioned  him, 
and  he  departed  from  it.  His  soul  desired  him  to 
open  the  door,  and  he  restrained  it  during  a  period 
of  seven  days ;  but  on  the  eighth  day  his  soul  over- 
came him,  and  he  said,  "  I  must  open  that  door,  and 
see  what  will  happen  to  me  in  consequence;  for 
nothing  will  repel  what  God  (whose  name  be 
exalted  !)  decreeth  and  predestineth,  and  no  event 
will  happen  but  by  His  will."  Accordingly  he  arose 
and  opened  the  door,  after  he  had  broken  the  locks. 
And  wdien  he  had  opened  the  door  he  saw  a  narrow 
passage,  along  which  he  walked  for  the  space  of 
three  hours  ;   and  lo  !  he  came  forth  upon  the  bank 


156  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

of  a  great  river.  At  this  the  young  man  wondered. 
And  he  walked  along  the  bank,  looking  to  the  right 
and  left;  and  behold!  a  great  eagle  descended  from 
the  sky,  and  taking  up  the  young  man  with  its 
talons,  it  flew  with  him,  between  heaven  and  earth, 
until  it  conveyed  him  to  an  island  in  the  midst  of 
the  sea.  There  it  threw  him  down,  and  departed 
from  him. 

So  the  young  man  was  perplexed  at  his  case,  not 
knowing  whither  to  go ;  but  while  he  was  sitting 
one  da}^,  lo !  the  sail  of  a  vessel  appeared  to  him 
upon  the  sea,  like  the  star  in  the  sky ;  wherefore 
the  heart  of  the  young  man  became  intent  upon  the 
vessel,  in  the  hope  that  his  escape  might  be  effected 
in  it.  He  continued  looking  at  it  until  it  came 
near  unto  him  ;  and  when  it  arrived,  he  beheld  a 
bark  of  ivory  and  ebony,  the  oars  of  which  were 
of  sandal-wood  and  aloes-wood,  and  the  whole  of  it 
was  encased  with  plates  of  brilliant  gold.  There 
were  also  in  it  ten  damsels,  virgins,  like  moons. 
When  the  damsels  saw  him,  they  landed  to  him 
from  the  bark,  and  kissed  his  hands,  saying  to  him, 
"  Thou  art  the  king,  the  bridegroom."  Then  there 
advanced  to  him  a  damsel  who  was  like  the  shining 
sun  in  the  clear  sky,  having  in  her  hand  a  kerchief 
of  silk,  in  which  were  a  royal  robe,  and  a  crown  of 
gold  set  with  varieties  of  jacinths.  Having  ad- 
vanced to  him,  she  clad  him  and  crowned  him  ; 
after  which  the  damsels  carried  him  in  their  arms 


THE  MAN  WHO  NEVER  LAUGHED.     157 

to  the  bark,  and  he  found  in  it  varieties  of  carpets 
of  silk  of  divers  colours.  They  then  spread  the 
sails,  and  proceeded  over  the  depths  of  the  sea. 

'*Now  when  I  proceeded  with  them,"  says  the 
young  man,  "  I  felt  sure  that  this  was  a  dream,  and 
knew  not  whither  they  were  going  with  me.  And 
when  they  came  in  sight  of  the  land,  I  beheld  it 
filled  with  troops,  the  number  of  which  none  knew 
but  God  (whose  perfection  be  extolled,  and  whose 
name  be  exalted  !)  clad  in  coats  of  mail.  They 
brought  forward  to  me  five  marked  horses,  with 
saddles  of  gold,  set  with  varieties  of  pearls  and 
precious  stones ;  and  I  took  a  horse  from  among 
these  and  mounted  it.  The  four  others  proceeded 
with  me ;  and  when  I  mounted,  the  ensigns  and 
banners  were  set  up  over  my  head,  the  drums  and 
the  cymbals  were  beaten,  and  the  troops  disposed 
themselves  in  two  divisions,  right  and  left.  I 
wavered  in  opinion  as  to  whether  I  were  asleep 
or  awake,  and  ceased  not  to  advance,  not  believing 
in  the  reality  of  my  stately  procession,  but  imagin- 
ing that  it  was  the  result  of  confused  dreams,  until 
we  came  in  sight  of  a  verdant  meadow,  in  which 
were  palaces  and  gardens,  and  trees  and  rivers  and 
flowers,  and  birds  proclaiming  the  perfection  of  God, 
the  One,  the  Omnipotent.  And  now  there  came 
forth  an  army  from  among  those  palaces  and 
gardens,  like  the  torrent  when  it  poureth  down, 
until  it  filled  the  meadow.     When  the  troops  drew 


158  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE   TALES. 

near  to  me,  they  hailed,  and  lo  !  a  king  advanced 
from  among  them,  riding  alone,  preceded  by  some 
of  his  chief  officers  walking." 

The  king,  on  approaching  the  young  man,  alighted 
from  his  courser ;  and  the  young  man,  seeing  him 
do  so,  alighted  also ;  and  they  saluted  each  other 
with  the  most  courteous  salutation.  Then  they 
mounted  their  horses  again,  and  the  king  said  to 
the  young  man,  "  Accompany  us ;  for  thou  art  my 
guest."  So  the  young  man  proceeded  with  him, 
and  they  conversed  together,  while  the  stately  trains 
in  orderly  disposition  went  on  before  them  to  the 
palace  of  the  king,  where  they  alighted,  and  all  of 
them  entered,  together  with  the  king  and  the  young 
man,  the  young  man's  hand  being  in  the  hand  of  the 
king,  who  thereupon  seated  him  on  the  throne  of 
gold  and  seated  himself  beside  him.  When  the 
king  removed  the  litham  from  his  face,  lo!  this 
supposed  king  was  a  damsel,  like  the  shining  sun  in 
the  clear  sky,  a  lady  of  beautj^  and  loveliness,  and 
elegance  and  perfection,  and  conceit  and  amorous 
dissimulation.  The  young  man  beheld  vast  affluence 
and  great  prosperity,  and  wondered  at  the  beauty 
and  loveliness  of  the  damsel.  Then  the  damsel  said 
to  him,  "Know,  0  king,  that  I  am  the  queen  of 
this  land,  and  all  these  troops  that  thou  hast  seen, 
including  every  one,  whether  of  cavalry  or  infantry, 
are  women.  There  are  not  among  them  any  men. 
The  men  among  us,  in   this  land,  till  and  sow  and 


THE  MAN  WHO  NEVER  LAUGHED.     159 

reap,  employing  themselves  in  the  cultivation  of  the 
land,  and  the  building  and  repairing  of  the  towns, 
and  in  attending  to  the  affairs  of  the  people,  by  the 
pursuit  of  every  kind  of  art  and  trade ;  but  as  to  the 
women,  they  are  the  governors  and  magistrates  and 
soldiers."  And  the  young  man  wondered  at  this 
extremely.  And  while  they  were  thus  conversing, 
the  vizier  entered ;  and  lo  !  she  was  a  grey-haired 
old  woman,  having  a  numerous  retinue,  of  venerable 
and  dignified  appearance  ;  and  the  queen  said  to  her, 
"  Bring  to  us  the  Kadee  and  the  witnesses."  So 
the  old  woman  went  for  that  purpose.  And  the 
queen  turned  towards  the  young  man,  conversing 
with  him  and  cheering  him,  and  dispelling  his  fear 
by  kind  words ;  and,  addressing  him  courteously,  she 
said  to  him,  "  Art  thou  content  for  me  to  be  thy 
wife  1  "  And  thereupon  he  arose  and  kissed  the 
ground  before  her  ;  but  she  forbade  him ;  and  he 
replied,  "  0  my  mistress,  I  am  less  than  the  servants 
who  serve  thee."  She  then  said  to  him,  "  Seest 
thou  not  these  servants  and  soldiers  and  wealth  and 
treasures  and  hoards  1 "  He  answered  her,  "  Yes." 
And  she  said  to  him,  "  All  these  are  at  thy  disposal ; 
thou  shalt  make  use  of  them,  and  give  and  bestow 
as  seemeth  fit  to  thee."  Then  she  pointed  to  a 
closed  door,  and  said  to  him,  "  All  these  things  thou 
shalt  dispose  of ;  but  this  door  thou  shalt  not  open ; 
for  if  thou  open  it,  thou  wilt  repent,  when  repent- 
ance will  not  avail  thee."       Her   words   were  not 


160  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE  TALES. 

ended  when  the  vizier,  with  the  Kadee  and  the 
witnesses,  entered,  and  all  of  them  were  old  women, 
with  their  hair  spreading  over  their  shoulders,  and 
of  venerable  and  dignified  appearance.  When  they 
came  before  the  queen,  she  ordered  them  to  per- 
form the  ceremony  of  the  marriage-contract.  So 
they  married  her  to  the  young  man.  And  she  pre- 
pared the  banquets  and  collected  the  troops  ;  and 
when  they  had  eaten  and  drunk,  the  young  man 
took  her  as  his  wife.  And  he  resided  with  her 
seven  years,  passing  the  most  delightful,  comfortable, 
and  agreeable  life. 

But  he  meditated  one  day  upon  opening  the  door, 
and  said,  "Were  it  not  that  there  are  within  it 
great  treasures,  better  than  what  I  have  seen,  she 
had  not  prohibited  me  from  opening  it."  He  then 
arose  and  opened  the  door,  and  lo  !  within  it  was 
the  bird  that  had  carried  him  from  the  shore  of  the 
great  river,  and  deposited  him  upon  the  island. 
When  the  bird  beheld  him,  it  said  to  him,  "No 
welcome  to  a  face  that  will  never  be  happy !  "  So, 
when  he  saw  it  and  heard  its  words,  he  fled  from  it ; 
but  it  followed  him  and  carried  him  off,  and  flew 
with  him  between  heaven  and  earth  for  the  s2Dace  of 
an  hour,  and  at  length  deposited  him  in  the  place 
from  which  it  had  carried  him  away ;  after  which  it 
disappeared.  He  thereupon  sat  in  that  place,  and, 
returning  to  his  reason,  he  reflected  upon  what  he 
had  seen  of  affluence  and  glory  and  honour,  and  the 


THE  MAN  WHO  NEVER  LAUGHED.     161 

riding  of  the  troops  before  him,  and  commanding 
and  forbidding;  and  he  wept  and  wailed.  He 
remained  upon  the  shore  of  the  great  river,  where 
that  bird  had  put  him,  for  the  space  of  two  months, 
wishing  that  he  might  return  to  his  wife  ;  but  while 
he  was  one  night  awake,  mourning  and  meditating, 
some  one  spoke  (and  he  heard  his  voice,  but  saw 
not  his  person),  calling  out,  "  How  great  were  the 
delights  !  Far,  far  from  thee  is  the  return  of  what 
is  passed !  And  how  many  therefore  will  be  the 
sighs !  "  So  when  the  young  man  heard  it,  he 
despaired  of  meeting  again  that  queen,  and  of  the 
return  to  him  of  the  affluence  in  which  he  had  been 
living.  He  then  entered  the  mansion  where  the 
sheykhs  had  resided,  and  knew  that  they  had  ex- 
perienced the  like  of  that  which  had  happened  unto 
him,  and  that  this  was  the  cause  of  their  weeping 
and  their  mourning;  wherefore  he  excused  them. 
Grief  and  anxiety  came  upon  the  young  man,  and 
he  entered  his  chamber,  and  ceased  not  to  weep  and 
moan,  relinquishing  food  and  drink  and  pleasant 
scents  and  laughter,  until  he  died ;  and  he  was 
buried  by  the  side  of  the  sheykhs. 


THE  FOX  AND  THE  WOLF. 

A  FOX  and  a  wolf  inhabited  the  same  den,  resorting 
thither  together,  and  thus  they  remained  a  long 
time.  But  the  wolf  oppressed  the  fox ;  and  it  so 
happened  that  the  fox  counselled  the  wolf  to  assume 
benignity,  and  to  abandon  wickedness,  saying  to 
him,  "  If  thou  persevere  in  thine  arrogance,  probably 
God  will  give  power  over  thee  to  a  son  of  Adam ; 
for  he  is  possessed  of  stratagems,  and  artifice,  and 
guile ;  he  captureth  the  birds  from  the  sky,  and  the 
fish  from  the  sea,  and  cutteth  the  mountains  and 
transporteth  them;  and  all  this  he  accomplisheth 
through  his  stratagems.  Betake  thyself,  therefore, 
to  the  practice  of  equity,  and  relinquish  evil  and 
oppression ;  for  it  will  be  more  pleasant  to  thy 
taste."  The  wolf,  however,  received  not  his  advice ; 
on  the  contrary,  he  returned  him  a  rough  reply, 
saying  to  him,  "  Thou  hast  no  right  to  speak  on 
matters  of  magnitude  and  importance."  He  then 
gave  the  fox  such  a  blow  that  he  fell  down  senseless ; 
and  when  he  recovered,  he  smiled  in  the  wolf's  face, 

162 


THE   FOX   AND   THE   WOLF.  163 

apologising  for  his  shameful  words,  and  recited  these 
two  verses  : — 

"  If  I  have  been  faulty  in  my  afifeetion  for   you,  and 
committed  a  deed  of  a  shameful  nature, 
I  repent  of  my  offence,  and  your  clemency  will  extend 
to  the  evildoer  who  craveth  forgiveness." 

So  the  wolf  accepted  his  apology,  and  ceased  from 
ill-treating  him,  but  said  to  him,  "  Speak  not  of  that 
which  concerneth  thee  not,  lest  thou  hear  that  which 
will  not  please  thee."  The  fox  replied,  "  I  hear  and 
obey.  I  will  abstain  from  that  which  pleaseth  thee 
not ;  for  the  sage  hath  said,  '  Offer  not  information 
on  a  subject  respecting  which  thou  art  not  ques- 
tioned ;  and  reply  not  to  words  when  thou  art  not 
invited ;  leave  what  concerneth  thee  not,  to  attend 
to  that  which  doth  concern  thee ;  and  lavish  not 
advice  upon  the  evil,  for  they  will  recompense  thee 
for  it  with  evil.'  " 

When  the  wolf  heard  these  words  of  the  fox,  he 
smiled  in  his  face  ;  but  he  meditated  upon  employing 
some  artifice  against  him,  and  said,  "  I  must  strive  to 
effect  the  destruction  of  this  fox."  As  to  the  fox, 
however,  he  bore  patiently  the  injurious  conduct  of 
the  wolf,  saying  within  himself,  "  Verily,  insolence 
and  calumny  occasion  destruction,  and  betray  one 
into  perplexity ;  for  it  hath  been  said,  '  He  who  is 
insolent  suffereth  injury,  and  he  who  is  ignorant 
repenteth,  and  he  who  feareth  is  safe :  moderation 
is  one  of  the  qualities  of  the  noble,  and  good 
manners  are  the  noblest  gain.'     It  is  advisable  to 


164  OEIENTAL   FOLKLORE  TALES. 

behave  with  dissimulation  towards  this  tyrant,  and 
he  will  inevitably  be  overthrown."  He  then  said 
to  the  wolf,  "Verily  the  Lord  pardoneth  and 
becometh  propitious  unto  His  servant  when  he  hath 
sinned ;  and  I  am  a  weak  slave,  and  have  committed 
a  transgression  in  offering  thee  advice.  Had  I 
foreknown  the  pain  that  I  have  suffered  from  thy 
blow,  I  had  known  that  the  elephant  could  not 
mthstand  nor  endure  it ;  but  I  will  not  complain  of 
the  pain  of  that  blow,  on  account  of  the  happiness 
that  hath  resulted  unto  me  from  it ;  for,  if  it  had  a 
severe  effect  upon  me,  its  result  was  happiness ;  and 
the  sage  hath  said,  'The  beating  inflicted  by  the 
preceptor  is  at  first  extremely  grievous ;  but  in  the 
end  it  is  sweeter  than  clarified  honey  ! '"  So  the 
wolf  said,  "  I  forgive  thine  offence,  and  cancel  thy 
fault ;  but  beware  of  my  power,  and  confess  thyself 
my  slave;  for  thou  hast  experienced  my  severity 
unto  him  who  showeth  me  hostility,"  The  fox, 
therefore,  prostrated  himself  before  him,  saying  to 
him,  "  May  God  prolong  thy  life,  and  mayest  thou 
not  cease  to  subdue  him  who  opposeth  thee ! "  And 
he  continued  to  fear  the  wolf,  and  to  dissemble 
towards  him. 

After  this  the  fox  went  one  day  to  a  vineyard, 
and  saw  in  its  wall  a  breach ;  but  he  suspected  it, 
saying  unto  himself,  "  There  must  be  some  cause  for 
this  breach,  and  it  hath  been  said,  '  Whoso  seeth  a 
hole  in  the  ground,  and  doth  not  shun  it,  and  be 


THE   FOX  AND   THE   WOLF.  165 

cautious  of  advancing  to  it  boldly,  exposeth  himself 
to  danger  and  destruction.'  It  is  well  known  that 
some  men  make  a  figure  of  the  fox  in  the  vineyard, 
and  even  put  before  it  grapes  in  plates,  in  order 
that  a  fox  may  see  it,  and  advance  to  it,  and  fall 
into  destruction.  Verily  I  regard  this  breach  as  a 
snare ;  and  it  hath  been  said,  '  Caution  is  the  half 
of  cleverness.'  Caution  requireth  me  to  examine  this 
breach,  and  to  see  if  I  can  find  there  anything  that 
may  lead  to  perdition.  Covetousness  doth  not 
induce  me  to  throw  myself  into  destruction."  He 
then  approached  it,  and,  going  round  about  ex- 
amining it  warily,  beheld  it ;  and  lo  !  there  was  a 
deep  pit,  which  the  owner  of  the  vineyard  had  dug 
to  catch  in  it  the  wild  beasts  that  despoiled  the 
vines ;  and  he  observed  over  it  a  slight  covering. 
So  he  drew  back  from  it,  and  said,  "  Praise  be  to 
God  that  I  regarded  it  with  caution  !  I  hope  that 
my  enemy,  the  wolf,  who  hath  made  my  life  miser- 
able, may  fall  into  it,  so  that  I  alone  may  enjoy 
absolute  power  over  the  vineyard,  and  live  in  it 
securely."  Then,  shaking  his  head,  and  uttering  a 
loud  laugh,  he  merrily  sang  these  verses — 

"  Would  that  I  beliekl  at  the  present  moment  in  this 

well  a  wolf, 
Who  hath  long  afflicted  my  heart,  and  made  me  drink 

bitterness  perforce  ! 
Would  that  my  life  might  be  spared,  and  that  the  wolf 

might  meet  his  death! 
Then  the  vineyard  would  be  free  from  his  presence, 

and  I  should  find  in  it  my  spoil." 


166  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE   TALES. 

Having  finished  his  song,  he  hurried  away  until 
he  came  to  the  wolf,  when  he  said  to  him,  "  Verily 
God  hath  smoothed  for  thee  the  way  to  the  vine- 
yard without  fatigue.  This  hath  happened  through 
thy  good  fortune.  May  est  thou  enjoy,  therefore, 
that  to  which  God  hath  granted  thee  access,  in 
smoothing  thy  way  to  that  plunder  and  that  abun- 
dant sustenance  without  any  difficulty  ! "  So  the 
wolf  said  to  the  fox,  "What  is  the  proof  of  that 
which  thou  hast  declared?"  The  fox  answered, 
"  I  went  to  the  vineyard,  and  found  that  its  owner 
had  died ;  and  I  entered  the  garden,  and  beheld  the 
fruits  shining  upon  the  trees." 

So  the  wolf  doubted  not  the  words  of  the  fox, 

and  in  his  eagerness  he  arose  and  went  to  the  breach. 

His  cupidity  had   deceived   him  wit]i  vain  hopes, 

and  the  fox  stopped  and  fell  down  behind  him  as 

one  dead,  applying  this  verse  as  a  proverb  suited  to 

the  case — 

"  Dost  thou  covet  an  interview  with  Leyla?    It  is  covetous- 
ness  that  causeth  the  loss  of  men's  heads." 

When  the  wolf  came  to  the  breach,  the  fox  said 
to  him,  "Enter  the  vineyard;  for  thou  art  spared 
the  trouble  of  breaking  down  the  wall  of  the  garden, 
and  it  remaineth  for  God  to  complete  the  benefit." 
So  the  wolf  walked  forward,  desiring  to  enter  the 
vineyard,  and  when  he  came  to  the  middle  of  the 
covering  of  the  hole,  he  fell  into  it ;  whereupon  the 
fox  was  violently  excited  by  happiness  and  joy,  his 


THE  FOX  AND  THE  WOLF.        167 

anxiety  and   grief  ceased,  and  in  merry  tones  he 
sang  these  verses — 

"Fortune  hath  compassionated  my  case,  and  felt  pity  for 

the  length  of  my  torment, 
And  granted  me  what  I  desired,  and  removed  that  which 

I  dreaded. 
I  will,  therefore,  forgive  its  offences  committed  in  former 

times ; 
Even  the  injustice  it  hath  shown  in  the  turning  of  my 

hair  grey. 
There  is  no  escape  for  the  wolf  from  utter  annihilation  ; 
And  the  vineyard  is  for  me  alone,  and  I  have  no  stupid 

partner." 

He  then  looked  into  the  pit,  and  beheld  the  wolf 
weeping  in  his  repentance  and  sorrow  for  himself, 
and  the  fox  wept  with  him.  So  the  wolf  raised  his 
head  towards  him,  and  said,  "  Is  it  from  thy  com- 
passion for  me  that  thou  hast  wept,  0  Abu-1- 
Hoseyn  ^ "  "  No,"  answered  the  fox,  "  by  him  who 
cast  thee  into  this  pit ;  but  I  weep  for  the  length  of 
thy  past  life,  and  in  my  regret  at  thy  not  having 
fallen  into  this  pit  before  the  present  day.  Hadst 
thou  fallen  into  it  before  I  met  with  thee,  I  had 
experienced  refreshment  and  ease.  But  thou  hast 
been  spared  to  the  expiration  of  thy  decreed  term 
and  known  period."  The  wolf,  however,  said  to 
him,  "  Go,  0  evildoer,  to  my  mother,  and  acquaint 
her  with  that  which  hath  happened  to  me ;  perhaps 
she  will  contrive  some  means  for  my  deliverance." 
But  the  fox  replied,  "  The  excess  of  thy  covetous- 
ness  and  eager  desire  has  entrapped  thee  into  de- 


168  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

struction,  since  thou  hast  fallen  into  a  pit  from 
which  thou  wilt  never  be  saved.  Knowest  thou 
not,  0  ignorant  wolf,  that  the  author  of  the  proverb 
saith,  *He  who  thinks  not  of  results  will  not  be 
secure  from  perils  ? '"  ^'  0  Abu-1-Hoseyn!"  rejoined 
the  wolf,  "  thou  wast  wont  to  manifest  an  affection 
for  me,  and  to  desire  my  friendship,  and  fear  the 
greatness  of  my  power.  Be  not,  then,  rancorous 
towards  me  for  that  which  I  have  done  unto  thee ; 
for  he  who  hath  one  in  his  power,  and  yet  forgiveth, 
will  receive  a  recompense  from  God,  and  the  poet 
hath  said — 

" '  Sow  good,  even  on  an  unworthy  soil ;  for  it  will  not  be 
fruitless  wherev^er  it  is  sown. 
Verily,  good,  though  it  remained  long  buried,  none  will 
reap  but  him  who  sowed  it." " 

"  0  most  ignorant  of  the  beasts  of  prey !  "  said  the 
fox,  "  and  most  stupid  of  the  wild  beasts  of  the 
regions  of  the  earth,  hast  thou  forgotten  thy  haughti- 
ness, and  insolence,  and  pride,  and  thy  disregarding 
the  rights  of  companionship,  and  thy  refusing  to  be 
advised  by  the  saying  of  the  poet  1 — 

*' '  Tyrannise  not,  if  thou  hast  the  power  to  do  so ;  for  the 
tyrannical  is  in  danger  of  revenge, 
Thine  eye  will  sleep  while  the  oppressed,  wakeful,  will 
call  down  curses  on  thee,  and  God's  eye  sleepeth  not.'" 

"  0  Abu-1-Hoseyn  ! "  exclaimed  the  wolf,  "  be  not 
angry  with  me  for  my  former  offences,  for  forgive- 
ness is  required  of  the  generous,  and  kind  conduct 


THE  FOX  AND  THE  WOLF.        169 

is  among  the  best  means  of  enriching  one's-self.    How 
excellent  is  the  saying  of  the  poet — 

"  '  Haste  to  do  good  when  thou  art  able  ;  for  at  every  season 
thou  hast  not  the  power.'  " 

He  continued  to  abase  himself  to  the  fox,  and 
said  to  him,  "  Perhaps  thou  canst  find  some  means 
of  delivering  me  from  destruction."  But  the  fox 
replied,  "  0  artful,  guileful,  treacherous  wolf !  hope 
not  for  deliverance ;  for  this  is  the  recompense  of 
thy  base  conduct,  and  a  just  retaliation."  Then, 
shaking  his  jaws  with  laughing,  he  recited  these 
two  verses — 

"  No  longer  attempt  to  beguile  me  ;  for  thou  wilt  not  attain 
thy  object. 
What  thou  seekest  from  me  is  impossible.     Thou  hast 
sown,  and  reap,  then,  vexation." 

'*  0  gentle  one  among  the  beasts  of  prey ! "  re- 
sumed the  wolf,  '•'  thou  art  in  my  estimation  more 
faithful  than  to  leave  me  in  this  pit."  He  then 
shed  tears,  and  repeated  this  couplet — 

"  0  thou  whose  favours  to  me  have  been  many,  and  whose 
gifts  have  been  more  than  can  be  numbered  ! 
No  misfortune  hath  ever  yet  befallen  me  but  I  have 
found  thee  ready  to  aid  me  in  it." 

The  fox  replied,  "  0  stupid  enemy,  how  art  thou 
reduced  to  humility,  submissiveness,  abjectness,  and 
obsequiousness,  after  thy  disdain,  pride,  tyranny, 
and  haughtiness !  I  kept  company  with  thee 
through  fear  of  thine  oppression,  and  flattered  thee 


170  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

without  a  hope  of  conciliating  thy  kindness;  but 
now  terror  hath  affected  thee,  and  punishment 
hath  overtaken  thee."  And  he  recited  these  two 
verses — 

"  0  thou  who  seekest  to  beguile  !  thou  hast  fallen  in  thy 
base  intention. 
Taste,  then,  the  pain  of  shameful  calamity,  and  be  with 
other  wolves  cut  off." 

The  wolf  still  entreated  him,  saying,  "  0  gentle 
one  !  speak  not  with  the  tongue  of  enmity,  nor  look 
with  its  eye ;  but  fulfil  the  covenant  of  fellowship 
with  me  before  the  time  for  discovering  a  remedy 
shall  have  passed.  Arise  and  procure  for  me  a 
rope,  and  tie  one  end  of  it  to  a  tree,  and  let  down 
to  me  its  other  end,  that  I  may  lay  hold  of  it. 
Perhaps  I  may  so  escape  from  my  present  predica- 
ment, and  I  will  give  thee  all  the  treasures  that  I 
possess."  The  fox,  however,  replied,  "  Thou  hast 
prolonged  a  conversation  that  will  not  procure  thy 
liberation.  Hope  not,  therefore,  for  thy  escape 
through  my  means;  but  reflect  upon  thy  former 
wicked  conduct,  and  the  perfidy  and  artifice  which 
thou  thoughtest  to  employ  against  me,  and  how 
near  thou  art  to  being  stoned.  Know  that  thy  soul 
is  about  to  quit  the  world,  and  to  perish  and  depart 
from  it :  then  wilt  thou  be  reduced  to  destruction, 
and  an  evil  abode  is  it  to  which  thou  goest !  " 
"  0  Abu-1-Hoseyn  !  "  rejoined  the  wolf,  "  be  ready  in 
returning  to  friendship,  and  be   not  so  rancorous. 


THE   FOX   AND   THE   WOLF.  171 

Know  that  he  who  delivereth  a  soul  from  destruc- 
tion hath  saved  it  alive,  and  he  who  saveth  a  soul 
alive  is  as  if  he  had  saved  the  lives  of  all  mankind. 
Follow  not  a  course  of  evil,  for  the  wise  abhor  it ; 
and  there  is  no  evil  more  manifest  than  my  being 
in  this  pit,  drinking  the  suffocating  pains  of  death, 
and  looking  upon  destruction,  when  thou  art  able 
to  deliver  me  from  the  misery  into  which  I  have 
fallen."  But  the  fox  exclaimed,  "  0  thou  barbarous, 
hard-hearted  wretch !  I  compare  thee,  with  respect 
to  the  fairness  of  thy  professions  and  the  baseness 
of  thine  intention,  to  the  falcon  with  the  partridge." 
"  And  what,"  asked  the  wolf,  "  is  the  story  of  the 
falcon  and  the  partridge  ?  " 

The  fox  answered,  "I  entered  a  vineyard  one  day 
to  eat  of  its  grapes,  and  while  I  was  there,  I  beheld 
a  falcon  pounce  upon  a  partridge ;  but  when  he  had 
captured  him,  the  partridge  escaped  from  him  and 
entered  his  nest,  and  concealed  himself  in  it; 
whereupon  the  falcon  followed  him,  calling  out  to 
him,  '  0  idiot !  I  saw  thee  in  the  desert  hungry,  and, 
feeling  compassion  for  thee,  I  gathered  for  thee 
some  grain,  and  took  hold  of  thee  that  thou 
mightest  eat ;  but  thou  fleddest  from  me,  and  I  see 
no  reason  for  thy  flight  unless  it  be  to  mortify. 
Show  thyself,  then,  and  take  the  grain  that  I  have 
brought  thee  and  eat  it,  and  may  it  be  light  and 
wholesome  to  thee.'  So  when  the  partridge  heard 
these  words  of  the   falcon,   he  believed  him  and 


172  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

came  forth  to  him ;  and  the  falcon  stuck  his  talons 
into  him,  and  got  possession  of  him.  The  partridge 
therefore  said  to  him,  '  Is  this  that  of  which  thou 
saidst  that  thou  hadst  brought  for  me  from  the 
desert,  and  of  which  thou  saidst  to  me,  "  Eat  it,  and 
may  it  be  light  and  wholesome  to  theeV  Thou 
hast  lied  unto  me ;  and  may  God  make  that  which 
thou  eatest  of  my  flesh  to  be  a  mortal  poison  in  thy 
stomach  ! '  And  when  he  had  eaten  it,  his  feathers 
fell  off,  and  his  strength  failed,  and  he  forthwith 
died." 

The  fox  then  continued,  "  Know,  0  wolf,  that  he 
who  diggeth  a  pit  for  his  brother  soon  falleth  into 
it  himself ;  and  thou  behavedst  with  perfidy  to  me 
first."  "  Cease,"  replied  the  wolf,  "  from  addressing 
me  with  this  discourse,  and  propounding  fables,  and 
mention  not  unto  me  my  former  base  actions.  It  is 
enough  for  me  to  be  in  this  miserable  state,  since  I 
have  fallen  into  a  calamity  for  which  the  enemy 
would  pity  me,  much  more  the  true  friend.  Con- 
sider some  stratagem  by  means  of  which  I  may  save 
myself,  and  so  assist  me.  If  the  doing  this  occasion 
thee  trouble,  thou  knowest  that  the  true  friend 
endureth  for  his  own  true  friend  the  severest  labour, 
and  will  suffer  destruction  in  obtaining  his  deliver- 
ance; and  it  hath  been  Siiid,  'An  affectionate  friend 
is  even  better  than  a  brother.'  If  thou  procure 
means  for  my  escape,  I  will  collect  for  thee  such 
things  as  shall  be  a  store  for  thee  against  the  time 


THE   FOX  AND   THE   WOLF.  173 

of  want,  and  then  I  will  teach  thee  extraordinary 
stratagems  by  which  thou  shalt  make  the  plenteous 
vineyards  accessible,  and  shalt  strip  the  fruitful 
trees  :  so  be  happy  and  cheerful."  But  the  fox 
said,  laughing  as  he  spoke,  "  How  excellent  is  that 
which  the  learned  have  said  of  him  who  is  exces- 
sively ignorant  like  thee  !  "  "  And  what  have  the 
learned  said  1 "  asked  the  wolf.  The  fox  answered, 
"  The  learned  have  observed  that  the  rude  in  body 
and  in  disposition  is  far  from  intelligence,  and  nigh 
unto  ignorance ;  for  thine  assertion,  0  perfidious 
idiot !  that  the  true  friend  undergoeth  trouble  for 
the  deliverance  of  his  own  true  friend  is  just  as 
thou  hast  said ;  but  acquaint  me,  with  thine  ignor- 
ance and  thy  paucity  of  sense,  how  I  should  bear 
sincere  friendship  towards  thee  with  thy  treachery. 
Hast  thou  considered  me  a  true  friend  unto  thee 
when  I  am  an  enemy  who  rejoiceth  in  thy  misfor- 
tune'? These  words  are  more  severe  than  the 
piercing  of  arrows,  if  thou  understand.  And  as  to 
thy  saying  that  thou  wilt  give  me  such  things  as 
will  be  a  store  for  me  against  the  time  of  want,  and 
will  teach  me  stratagems  by  which  I  shall  obtain 
access  to  the  plenteous  vineyards  and  strip  the 
fruitful  trees — how  is  it,  0  guileful  traitor  !  that 
thou  knowest  not  a  stratagem  by  means  of  which  to 
save  thyself  from  destruction  1  How  far,  then,  art 
thou  from  profiting  thyself,  and  how  far  am  I  from 
receiving  thine  advice  1    If  thou  know  of  stratagems, 


174  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE   TALES. 

employ  them  to  save  thyself  from  this  predicament 
from  which  I  pray  God  to  make  thine  escape  far 
distant.  See,  then,  0  idiot !  if  thou  know  any 
stratagem,  and  save  thyself  by  its  means  from 
slaughter,  before  thou  lavish  instruction  upon 
another.  But  thou  art  like  a  man  whom  a  disease 
attacked,  and  to  whom  there  came  a  man  suffering 
from  the  same  disease  to  cure  hira,  saying  to  him, 
'  Shall  I  cure  thee  of  thy  disease  ? '  The  first  man, 
therefore,  said  to  the  other,  'Why  hast  thou  not 
begun  by  curing  thyself  ? '  So  he  left  him  and  went 
his  way.  And  thou,  0  wolf,  art  in  the  same  case. 
Eemain,  then,  in  thy  place,  and  endure  that  which 
hath  befallen  thee." 

Now  when  the  wolf  heard  these  words  of  the  fox, 
he  knew  that  he  had  no  kindly  feeling  for  him ;  so 
he  wept  for  himself,  and  said,  "  I  have  been  careless 
of  myself ;  but  if  God  deliver  me  from  this  affliction, 
I  will  assuredly  repent  of  my  overbearing  conduct 
unto  him  that  is  weaker  than  I;  and  I  will  cer- 
tainly wear  wool,  and  ascend  the  mountains,  com- 
memorating the  praises  of  God  (whose  name  be 
exalted!)  and  fearing  His  punishment;  and  I  will 
separate  myself  from  all  the  other  wild  beasts,  and 
verily  I  will  feed  the  warriors  in  defence  of  the  re- 
ligion and  the  poor."  Then  he  wept  and  lamented ; 
and  thereupon  the  heart  of  the  fox  was  moved  with 
tenderness  for  him.  On  hearing  his  humble  expres- 
sions, and  the  words  which  indicated  his  repenting 


THE  FOX  AND  THE  WOLF.        175 

of  arrogance  and  pride,  he  was  affected  with  com- 
passion for  him,  and,  leaping  with  joy,  placed  him- 
self at  the  brink  of  the  pit,  and  sat  upon  his  hind- 
legs  and  hung  down  his  tail  into  the  cavity.  Upon 
this  the  wolf  arose,  and  stretched  forth  his  paw 
towards  the  fox's  tail,  and  pulled  him  down  to  him; 
so  the  fox  was  with  him  in  the  pit.  The  wolf  then 
said  to  him,  "  0  fox  of  little  compassion  !  wherefore 
didst  thou  rejoice  in  my  misfortune  1  Now  thou  hast 
become  my  companion,  and  in  my  power.  Thou 
hast  fallen  into  the  pit  with  me,  and  punishment 
hath  quickly  overtaken  thee.  The  sages  have  said, 
'  If  any  one  of  you  reproach  his  brother  for  deriving 
his  nourishment  from  miserable  means,  he  shall 
experience  the  same  necessity/  and  how  excellent 
is  the  saying  of  the  poet — 

*'  '  When  fortune  throweth  itself  heavily  upon  some,  and 
encampeth  by  the  side  of  others, 
Say  to  those  who  rejoice  over  us,   "Awake:  the  re- 
joicers  over  us  shall  suffer  as  we  have  done." ' 

"I  must  now,"  he  continued,  "  hasten  thy  slaughter, 
before  thou  beholdest  mine."  So  the  fox  said  within 
himself,  "I  have  fallen  into  the  snare  with  this 
tyrant,  and  my  present  case  requireth  the  employ- 
ment of  artifice  and  frauds.  It  hath  been  said  that 
the  woman  maketh  her  ornaments  for  the  day  of 
festivity ;  and,  in  a  proverb,  '  I  have  not  reserved 
thee,  0  my  tear,  but  for  the  time  of  my  difficulty ! ' 
and  if  I  employ  not  some  stratagem  in  the  affair  of 


176  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE   TALES. 

this  tyrannical  wild  beast,  I  perish  inevitably.    How 
good  is  the  saying  of  the  poet — 

" '  Support  thyself  by  guile ;  for  thou  livest  in  an  age 
whose  sous  are  like  the  lions  of  the  forest  ; 

And  brandish  around  the  spear  of  artifice,  that  the 
mill  of  subsistence  may  revolve  ; 

And  pluck  the  fruits  ;  or  if  they  be  beyond  thy  reach, 
then  content  thyself  with  herl9age.'  " 

He  then  said  to  the  wolf,  "Hasten  not  to  kill 
me,  lest  thou  repent,  0  courageous  wild  beast, 
endowed  with  might  and  excessive  fortitude !  If 
thou  delay,  and  consider  what  I  am  about  to  tell 
thee,  thou  wilt  know  the  desire  that  I  formed ;  and 
if  thou  hasten  to  kill  me,  there  will  be  no  profit  to 
thee  in  thy  doing  so,  but  we  shall  die  here  together." 
So  the  wolf  said,  "  0  thou  wily  deceiver !  how  is  it 
that  thou  hopest  to  efifect  my  safety  and  thine  own, 
that  thou  askest  me  to  give  thee  a  delay  ?  Acquaint 
me  with  the  desire  that  thou  formedst."  The  fox 
replied,  "As  to  the  desire  that  I  formed,  it  was 
such  as  requireth  thee  to  recompense  me  for  it  well, 
since,  when  I  heard  thy  promises,  and  thy  confession 
of  thy  past  conduct,  and  thy  regret  at  not  having 
before  repented  and  done  good  ;  and  when  I  heard 
thy  vows  to  abstain  from  injurious  conduct  to  thy 
companions  and  others,  and  to  relinquish  the  eating 
of  the  grapes  and  all  other  fruits,  and  to  impose 
upon  thyself  the  obligation  of  humility,  and  to  clip 
thy  claws  and  break  thy  dog-teeth,    and  to  wear 


THE   FOX  AND   THE   WOLF.  177 

wool  and  offer  sacrifice  to  God  (whose  name  be 
exalted !)  if  He  delivered  thee  from  thy  present 
state,  I  was  affected  with  compassion  for  thee,  though 
I  was  before  longing  for  thy  destruction.  So  when 
I  heard  thy  profession  of  repentance,  and  what  thou 
vowedst  to  do  if  God  delivered  thee,  I  felt  con- 
strained to  save  thee  from  thy  present  predicament. 
I  therefore  hung  down  my  tail  that  thou  mightest 
catch  hold  of  it  and  make  thine  escape.  But  thou 
wouldst  not  relinquish  thy  habit  of  severity  and 
violence,  nor  desire  escape  and  safety  for  thyself  by 
gentleness.  On  the  contrary,  thou  didst  pull  me 
in  such  a  way  that  I  thought  my  soul  had  departed, 
so  I  became  a  companion  with  thee  of  the  abode  of 
destruction  and  death  ;  and  nothing  will  effect  the 
escape  of  myself  and  thee  but  one  plan.  If  thou 
approve  of  this  plan  that  I  have  to  propose,  we  shall 
both  save  ourselves ;  and  after  that,  it  will  be 
incumbent  on  thee  to  fulfil  that  which  thou  hast 
vowed  to  do,  and  I  will  be  thy  companion."  So 
the  wolf  said,  "  And  what  is  thy  proposal  that  I  am 
to  accept  ^  "  The  fox  answered,  "  That  thou  raise 
thyself  upright ;  then  I  will  place  myself  upon  thy 
head,  that  I  may  approach  the  surface  of  the  earth, 
and  w^hen  I  am  upon  its  surface  I  will  go  forth  and 
bring  thee  something  of  which  to  take  hold,  and 
after  that  thou  wilt  deliver  thyself."  But  the  wolf 
replied,  "  I  put  no  confidence  in  thy  words  ;  for  the 
sages  have  said,  '  He  who  confideth  when  he  should 

Oriental. 

M 


178  ORIENTAL  FOLKLORE  TALES. 

hate  is  in  error ' ;  and  it  hath  been  said,  '  He  who 
confideth  in  the  faithless  is  deceived,  and  he  who 
maketh  trial  of  the  trier  will  repent.'  How  excel- 
lent also  is  the  saying  of  the  poet — 

" '  Let  not  your  opinion   be  otherwise  than    evil ;    for   ill 
opinion  is  among  the  strongest  of  intellectual  qualities. 
Nothing  casteth  a  man  into  a  place  of  danger  like  the 
practice  of  good,  and  a  fair  opinion  !  ' 

"  And  the  saying  of  another — 

"  '  Always  hold  an  evil  opinion,  and  so  be  safe. 

Whoso  liveth  vigilantl}',  his  calamities  will  be  few. 
Meet  the  enemy  with  a  smiling  and  an  open  face  ;  but 
raise  for  him  an  army  in  the  heart  to  combat  him.' 

"  And  that  of  another — 

*' '  The  most  bitter  of  thine  enemies  is  the  nearest  whom 

thou  trustest  in  :  beware  then  of  men,  and  associate 

with  them  wilily. 

Thy  favourable  opinion  of  fortune  is  a  weakness  :  think 

evil  of  it,  therefore,  and  regard  it  with  apprehension  ! ' '' 

"  Verily,"  rejoined  the  fox,  "  an  evil  opinion  is 
not  commendable  in  every  case  ;  but  a  fair  opinion 
is  among  the  characteristics  of  excellence,  and  its 
result  is  escape  from  terrors.  It  is  befitting,  O  wolf, 
that  thou  employ  some  stratagem  for  thine  escape 
from  the  present  predicament ;  and  it  will  be  better 
for  us  both  to  escape  than  to  die.  Relinquish, 
therefore,  thine  evil  opinion  and  thy  malevolence ; 
for  if  thou  think  favourably  of  me,  I  shall  not  fail 
to  do  one  of  two  things ;  either  I  shall  bring  thee 
something  -i/f  which  to  lay  hold,  and  thou  wilt  escape 
from  thy  present  situation,  or  I  shall  act  perfidiously 


THE   FOX   AND   THE   WOLF.  179 

towards  thee,  and  save  myself  and  leave  thee ;  but 
this  is  a  thing  that  cannot  be,  for  I  am  not  secured 
from  meeting  with  some  such  affliction  as  that  which 
thou  hast  met  with,  and  that  would  be  the  punish- 
ment of  perfidy.  It  hath  been  said  in  a  proverb, 
'Fidelity  is  good,  and  perfidy  is  base.'  It  is  fit, 
then,  that  thou  trust  in  me,  for  I  have  not  been 
ignorant  of  misfortunes.  Delay  not,  therefore,  to 
contrive  our  escape,  for  the  afifair  is  too  strait  for 
thee  to  prolong  thy  discourse  upon  it." 

The  wolf  then  said,  "  Verily,  notwithstanding  my 
little  confidence  in  thy  fidelity,  I  knew  what  was  in 
thy  heart,  that  thou  desiredst  my  deliverance  when 
thou  wast  convinced  of  my  repentance ;  and  I  said 
within  myself,  *  If  he  be  veracious  in  that  which  he 
asserteth,  he  hath  made  amends  for  his  wicked- 
ness; and  if  he  be  false,  he  will  be  recompensed 
by  his  Lord.'  So  now  I  accept  thy  proposal  to 
me,  and  if  thou  act  perfidiously  towards  me,  thy 
perfidy  will  be  the  means  of  thy  destruction."  Then 
the  wolf  raised  himself  upright  in  the  pit,  and  took 
the  fox  upon  his  shoulders,  so  that  his  head  reached 
the  surface  of  the  ground.  The  fox  thereupon 
sprang  from  the  wolf's  shoulders,  and  found  himself 
upon  the  face  of  the  earth,  when  he  fell  down 
senseless.  The  wolf  now  said  to  him,  "  0  my  friend  ! 
forget  not  my  case,  nor  delay  my  deliverance." 

The  fox,  however,  uttered  a  loud  laugh,  and 
replied,  "  0  thou  deceived  !  it  was  nothing  but  my 


180  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

jesting  with  thee  and  deriding  thee  that  entrapped 
me  into  thy  power ;  for  when  I  heard  thy  profession 
of  repentance,  joy  excited  me,  and  I  was  moved 
with  delight,  and  danced,  and  my  tail  hung  down 
into  the  pit;  so  thou  didst  pull  me,  and  I  fell 
by  thee.  Then  God  (whose  name  be  exalted !) 
delivered  me  from  thy  hand.  Wherefore,  then, 
should  I  not  aid  in  thy  destruction  when  thou  art 
of  the  associates  of  the  devil  1  Know  that  I  dreamt 
yesterday  that  I  was  dancing  at  thy  wedding,  and  I 
related  the  dream  to  an  interpreter,  who  said  to  me, 
'  Thou  wilt  fall  into  a  frightful  danger,  and  escape 
from  it.'  So  I  knew  that  my  falling  into  thy 
power  and  my  escape  was  the  interpretation  of  my 
dream.  Thou,  too,  knowest,  0  deceived  idiot !  that 
I  am  thine  enemy.  How,  then,  dost  thou  hope, 
with  thy  little  sense  and  thine  ignorance,  that  I  will 
deliver  thee,  when  thou  hast  heard  what  rude 
language  I  used  %  And  how  shall  I  endeavour  to 
deliver  thee,  when  the  learned  have  said  that  by 
the  death  of  the  sinner  are  produced  ease  to  man- 
kind and  purgation  of  the  earth  1  Did  I  not  fear 
that  I  should  suffer,  by  fidelity  to  thee,  such 
affliction  as  would  be  greater  than  that  which  may 
result  from  perfidy,  I  would  consider  upon  means 
for  thy  deliverance."  So  when  the  wolf  heard  the 
words  of  the  fox,  he  bit  his  paw  in  repentance.  He 
then  spoke  softly  to  him,  but  obtained  nothing 
thereby.     With  a  low  voice  he  said  to  him,  "Verily, 


THE    FOX   AND    THE   WOLE.  181 

you  tribe  of  foxes  are  the  sweetest  of  people  in 
tongue,  and  the  most  pleasant  in  jesting,  and  this 
is  jesting  in  thee ;  but  every  time  is  not  convenient 
for  sport  and  joking."  "  0  idiot ! "  replied  the  fox, 
"jesting  hath  a  limit  which  its  employer  trans- 
gresseth  not.  Think  not  that  God  will  give  thee 
possession  of  me  after  He  hath  delivered  me  from 
thy  power."  The  wolf  then  said  to  him,  "  Thou  art 
one  in  whom  it  is  proper  to  desire  my  liberation, 
on  account  of  the  former  brotherhood  and  friendship 
that  subsisted  between  us ;  and  if  thou  deliver  me, 
I  will  certainly  recompense  thee  well."  But  the 
fox  replied,  "  The  sages  have  said,  '  Take  not  as  thy 
brother  the  ignorant  and  wicked,  for  he  will 
disgrace  thee,  and  not  honour  thee ;  and  take  not  as 
thy  brother  the  liar,  for  if  good  proceed  from  thee 
he  will  hide  it,  and  if  evil  proceed  from  thee  he  will 
publish  it !  '  And  the  sages  have  said,  '  For  every- 
thing there  is  a  stratagem,  excepting  death;  and 
everything  may  be  rectified  excepting  the  corruption 
of  the  very  essence ;  and  everything  may  be  repelled 
excepting  destiny.'  And  as  to  the  recompense 
which  thou  assertest  that  I  deserve  of  thee,  I 
compare  thee,  in  thy  recompensing,  to  the  serpent 
fleeing  from  the  Hilwee,  when  a  man  saw  her  in  a 
state  of  terror,  and  said  to  her,  '  What  is  the  matter 
with  thee,  0  serpent?'  She  answered,  'I  have 
fled  from  the  Hawee,  for  he  seeketh  me  ;  and  if 
thou   deliver  me  from  him,  and   conceal  me   with 


182  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

thee,  I  will  recompense  thee  well,  and  do  thee  every 
kindness.'  So  the  man  took  her,  to  obtain  the 
reward,  and  eager  for  the  recompense,  and  put  her 
into  his  pocket ;  and  when  the  Hawee  had  passed 
and  gone  his  way,  and  what  she  feared  had  quitted 
her,  the  man  said  to  her,  '  Where  is  the  recompense, 
for  I  have  saved  thee  from  that  which  thou  fearedst 
and  didst  dread  T  The  serpent  answered  him,  '  Tell 
me  in  what  member  I  shall  bite  thee;  for  thou 
knowest  that  we  exceed  not  this  recompense.'  She 
then  inflicted  upon  him  a  bite,  from  which  he  died. 
And  thee,  0  idiot !  "  continued  the  fox,  "  I  compare 
to  that  serpent  with  that  man.  Hast  thou  not 
heard  the  saying  of  the  poet  ? — 

'• '  Trust  not  a  person  in  whose  heart  thou  hast  made  anger 
to  dwell,  nor  think  his  anger  hath  ceased. 
Verily,  the  vipers,   though  smooth  to  the  touch,   show- 
graceful  motions,  and  hide  mortal  poison.'  " 

"  0  eloquent  and  comely-faced  animal !  "  rejoined 
the  wolf,  "  be  not  ignorant  of  my  condition,  and  of 
the  fear  with  which  mankind  regard  me.  Thou 
knowest  that  I  assault  the  strong  places,  and  strip 
the  vines.  Do,  therefore,  what  I  have  commanded 
thee,  and  attend  to  me  as  the  slave  attendeth  to  his 
master."  "  0  ignorant  idiot !  who  seekest  what  is 
vain,"  exclaimed  the  fox,  "  verily  I  wonder  at  thy 
stupidity,  and  at  the  roughness  of  thy  manner,  in 
thine  orderinir  me  to  serve  thee  and  to  stand  before 
thee  as  though  I  were  a  slave.     But  thou  shalt  soon 


THE   FOX  AND   THE   WOLF.  183 

see  what  will  befall  thee,  by  the  splitting  of  thy  head 
with  stones,  and  the  breaking  of  thy  treacherous  dog- 
teeth." 

The  fox  then  stationed  himself  upon  a  mound 
overlooking  the  vineyard,  and  cried  out  incessantly 
to  the  people  of  the  vineyard  until  they  perceived 
him  and  came  quickly  to  him.  He  remained  steady 
before  them  until  they  drew  near  unto  him, 
and  unto  the  pit  in  which  was  the  wolf,  and 
then  he  fled.  So  the  owners  of  the  vineyard 
looked  into  the  pit,  and  when  they  beheld  the  wolf 
in  it,  they  instantly  pelted  him  with  heavy  stones, 
and  continued  throwing  stones  and  pieces  of  wood 
upon  him,  and  piercing  him  with  the  points  of 
spears,  until  they  killed  him,  when  they  departed. 
Then  the  fox  returned  to  the  pit,  and  standing  over 
the  place  of  the  wolfs  slaughter,  saw  him  dead; 
whereupon  he  shook  his  head  in  the  excess  of  his 
joy,  and  recited  these  verses — 

"  Fate  removed  the  wolf's  soul,  and  it  was  snatched 
away. 

Far  distant  from  hapx^iness  be  his  soul  that  hath 
perished. 

How  long  hast  thou  striven,  Abos  Tirhan,  to  destroy 
me  ! 

But  now  have  burning  calamities  befallen  thee. 

Thou  hast  fallen  into  a  pit  into  which  none  shall  de- 
scend without  finding  in  it  the  blasts  of  death." 

After  this  the  fox  remained  in  the  vineyard  alone, 
and  in  security,  fearing  no  mischief. 


THE  SHEPHEED  AND  THE  JOGIE. 

It  is  related  that  during  the  reign  of  a  king  of 
Cutch,  named  Lakeh,  a  Jogie  lived,  who  was  a  wise 
man,  and  wonderfully  skilled  in  the  preparation  of 
herbs.  For  years  he  had  been  occupied  in  search- 
ing for  a  peculiar  kind  of  grass,  the  roots  of  which 
should  be  burnt,  and  a  man  be  thrown  into  the 
flames.  The  body  so  burnt  would  become  gold,  and 
any  of  the  members  might  be  removed  without  the 
body  sustaining  any  loss,  as  the  parts  so  taken 
would  always  be  self-restored. 

It  so  occurred  that  this  Jogie,  whilst  following  a 
flock  of  goats,  observed  one  amongst  them  eating  of 
the  grass  he  was  so  anxious  to  procure.  He  imme- 
diately rooted  it  up,  and  desired  the  shepherd  who 
was  near  to  assist  him  in  procuring  firewood. 
When  he  had  collected  the  wood  and  kindled  a 
flame,  into  which  the  grass  was  thrown,  the  Jogie, 
wishing  to  render  the  shepherd  the  victim  of  his 
avarice,  desired  him,  under  some  pretence,  to  make 
a  few  circuits  round  the  fire.  The  man,  however, 
suspecting  foul  play,  watched  his  opportunity,  and^ 

184 


THE  SHEPHERD  AND  THE  JOGIE.      185 

seizing  the  Jogie  himself,  he  threw  him  into  the  fire 
and  left  him  to  be  consumed.  Next  day,  on  return- 
ing to  the  spot,  great  was  his  surprise  to  behold  the 
golden  figure  of  a  man  lying  amongst  the  embers. 
He  immediately  chopped  off  one  of  the  limbs  and 
hid  it.  The  next  day  he  returned  to  take  another, 
when  his  astonishment  was  yet  greater  to  see  that  a 
fresh  limb  had  replaced  the  one  already  taken.  In 
short,  the  shepherd  soon  became  wealthy,  and  re- 
vealed the  secret  of  his  riches  to  the  king,  Lakeh, 
who,  by  the  same  means,  accumulated  so  much  gold 
that  every  day  he  was  in  the  habit  of  giving  one 
lac  and  twenty- five  thousand  rupees  in  alms  to 
fakirs. 


THE  PEEFIDIOUS  VIZIER 

A  KING  of  former  times  had  an  only  son,  whom  he 
contracted  in  marriage  to  the  daughter  of  another 
king.  But  the  damsel,  who  was  endowed  with 
great  beauty,  had  a  cousin  who  had  sought  her  in 
marriage,  and  had  been  rejected  ;  wherefore  he  sent 
great  presents  to  the  vizier  of  the  king  just  men- 
tioned, requesting  him  to  employ  some  stratagem  by 
which  to  destroy  his  master's  son,  or  to  induce  him 
to  relinquish  the  damsel.  The  vizier  consented. 
Then  the  father  of  the  damsel  sent  to  the  king's 
son,  inviting  him  to  come  and  introduce  himself  to 
his  daughter,  to  take  her  as  his  wife;  and  the 
father  of  the  young  man  sent  him  with  the 
treacherous  vizier,  attended  by  a  thousand  horse- 
men, and  provided  with  rich  presents.  When  they 
were  proceeding  over  the  desert,  the  vizier  remem- 
bered that  there  was  near  unto  them  a  spring  of 
water  called  Ez-zahra,  and  that  whosoever  drank  of 
it,  if  he  were  a  man,  became  a  woman.  He  there- 
fore ordered  the  troops  to  alight  near  it,  and  in- 

186 


THE   PERFIDIOUS    VIZIEIl.  187 

duced  the  prince  to  go  thither  with  him.  When 
they  arrived  at  the  spring,  the  king's  son  dis- 
mounted from  his  courser,  and  washed  his  hands, 
and  drank ;  and  lo  !  he  became  a  woman ;  where- 
upon he  cried  out  and  wept  until  he  fainted.  The 
vizier  asked  him  what  had  befallen  him,  so  the 
young  man  informed  him;  and  on  hearing  his 
words,  the  vizier  affected  to  be  grieved  for  him,  and 
wept.  The  king's  son  then  sent  the  vizier  back  to 
his  father  to  inform  him  of  this  event,  determining 
not  to  proceed  nor  to  return  until  his  affliction 
should  be  removed  from  him,  or  until  he  should 
die. 

He  remained  by  the  fountain  during  a  period  of 
three  days  and  nights,  neither  eating  nor  drinking, 
and  on  the  fourth  night  there  came  to  him  a  horse- 
man with  a  crown  upon  his  head,  appearing  like  one 
of  the  sons  of  the  kings.  This  horseman  said  to 
him,  "  Who  brought  you,  0  young  man,  unto  this 
place  1 "  So  the  young  man  told  him  his  story ; 
and  when  the  horseman  heard  it,  he  pitied  him,  and 
said  to  him,  "  The  vizier  of  thy  father  is  the  person 
who  hath  thrown  thee  into  this  calamity ;  for  no 
one  of  mankind  knoweth  of  this  spring  excepting 
one  man."  Then  the  horseman  ordered  him  to 
mount  with  him.  He  therefore  mounted ;  and  the 
horseman  said  to  him,  "  Come  with  me  to  my 
abode :  for  thou  art  my  guest  this  night."  The 
young  man  replied,  "  Inform  me  who  thou  art  before 


188  ORIENTAL   FOLKLORE   TALES. 

I  SO  with  thee."  And  the  horseman  said,  "I  am 
the  son  of  a  king  of  the  Jinn,  and  thou  art  son 
of  a  king  of  mankind.  And  now,  be  of  good  heart 
and  cheerful  eye  on  account  of  that  which  shall 
dispel  thine  anxiety  and  thy  grief,  for  it  is  unto 
me  easy." 

So  the  young  man  proceeded  with  him  from  the 
commencement  of  the  day,  forsaking  his  troops  and 
soldiers  (whom  the  vizier  had  left  at  their  halting- 
place),  and  ceased  not  to  travel  on  with  his  con- 
ductor until  midnight,  when  the  son  of  the  king  of 
the  Jinn  said  to  him,  "  Knowest  thou  what  space 
we  have  traversed  during  this  period  1 "  The  young 
man  answered  him,  "  I  know  not."  The  son  of  the 
king  of  the  Jinn  said,  "  "We  have  traversed  a  space 
of  a  year's  journey  to  him  who  travelleth  with 
diligence."  So  the  young  man  wondered  thereat, 
and  asked,  "  How  shall  I  return  to  my  family  1 " 
The  other  answered,  "  This  is  not  thine  affair.  It 
is  my  affair ;  and  when  thou  shalt  have  recovered 
from  thy  misfortune,  thou  shalt  return  to  thy  family 
in  less  time  than  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  for  to 
accomplish  that  will  be  to  me  easy."  The  young 
man,  on  hearing  these  words  from  the  Jinnee,  almost 
flew  with  excessive  delight.  He  thought  that  the 
event  was  a  result  of  confused  dreams,  and  said, 
"  Extolled  be  the  perfection  of  him  who  is  able  to 
restore  the  wretched,  and  render  him  prosperous  !  " 
They  ceased  not  to  proceed  until  morning,  when 


THE   PERFIDIOUS  VIZIER.  189 

they  arrived  at  a  verdant,  bright  land,  with  tall 
trees,  and  warbling  birds,  and  gardens  of  surpassing 
beauty,  and  fair  palaces ;  and  thereupon  the  son  of 
the  king  of  the  Jinn  alighted  from  his  courser, 
commanding  the  young  man  also  to  dismount.  He 
therefore  dismounted,  and  the  Jinnee  took  him  by 
the  hand,  and  they  entered  one  of  the  palaces,  where 
the  young  man  beheld  an  exalted  king  and  a 
sultan  of  great  dignity,  and  he  remained  with  them 
that  day,  eating  and  drinking,  until  the  approach  of 
nicfht.  Then  the  son  of  the  kinsr  of  the  Jinn  arose 
and  mounted  with  him,  and  they  went  forth,  and 
proceeded  during  the  night  with  diligence  until  the 
morning.  And  lo  !  they  came  to  a  black  land,  not 
inhabited,  abounding  with  black  rocks  and  stones, 
as  though  it  were  a  part  of  hell;  whereupon  the 
son  of  the  king  of  men  said  to  the  Jinnee,  "  What  is 
the  name  of  this  land  1 "  And  he  answered,  *'  It  is 
called  the  Dusky  Land,  and  belongeth  to  one  of  the 
kings  of  the  Jinn,  whose  name  is  Zu-1-Jenaheyn. 
None  of  the  kings  can  attack  him,  nor  doth  any  one 
enter  his  territory  unless  by  his  permission,  so  stop 
in  thy  place  while  I  ask  his  permission."  Accord- 
ingly the  young  man  stopped,  and  the  Jinn  was 
absent  from  him  for  a  while,  and  then  returned 
to  him;  and  they  ceased  not  to  proceed  until 
they  came  to  a  spring  flowing  from  black 
mountains.  The  Jinnee  said  to  the  young  man, 
■"  Alight."     He  therefore  alighted   from  his  courser, 


190  ORIENTAL   FOLKLOKE   TALES. 

and    the    Jinnee    said   to    him,    "Drink    of    this 
spring." 

The  young  prince  drank  of  it,  and  immediately 
became  again  a  man,  as  he  was  at  first,  by  the 
power  of  God  (whose  name  be  exalted !),  whereat 
he  rejoiced  with  great  joy,  not  to  be  exceeded. 
And  he  said  to  the  Jinn,  "  0  my  brother, 
what  is  the  name  of  this  spring  ? "  The  Jinnee 
answered,  "  It  is  called  the  Spring  of  the  Women  : 
no  woman  drinketh  of  it  but  she  becometh  a 
man ;  therefore  praise  God,  and  thank  Him  for 
thy  restoration,  and  mount  thy  courser."  So 
the  king's  son  prostrated  himself,  thanking  God 
(whose  name  be  exalted !).  Then  he  mounted, 
and  they  journeyed  with  diligence  during  the 
rest  of  the  day  until  they  had  returned  to  the 
land  of  the  Jinnee,  and  the  young  man  passed  the 
night  in  his  abode  in  the  most  comfortable  manner ; 
after  which  they  ate  and  drank  until  the  next 
night,  when  the  son  of  the  king  of  the  Jinn  said 
to  him,  "  Dost  thou  desire  to  return  to  thy  family 
this  night V  The  young  man  answered,  "Yes." 
So  the  son  of  the  king  of  the  Jinn  called  one  of  his 
father's  slaves,  whose  name  was  Eajiz,  and  said  to 
him,  "  Take  this  young  man  hence,  and  carry  him 
upon  thy  shoulders,  and  let  not  the  dawn  overtake 
him  before  he  is  with  his  father-in-law  and  his 
wife."  The  slave  replied,  ^'I  hear  and  obey,  and 
with  feelings    of   love  and   honour  will   I  do  it." 


THE   PERFIDIOUS  VIZIER.  191 

Then  the  slave  absented  himself  for  a  while,  and 
approached  in  the  form  of  an  'Efreet.  And  when  the 
young  man  saw  him  his  reason  fled,  and  he  was 
stupefied ;  but  the  son  of  the  king  of  the  Jinn  said 
to  him,  "No  harm  shall  befall  thee.  Mount  thy 
courser.  Ascend  upon  his  shoulders."  The  young 
man  then  mounted  upon  the  slave's  shoulders,  and 
the  son  of  the  king  of  the  Jinn  said  to  him,  "  Close 
thine  eyes."  So  he  closed  his  eyes,  and  the  slave 
flew  with  him  between  heaven  and  earth,  and  ceased 
not  to  fly  along  with  him  while  the  young  man 
was  unconscious,  and  the  last  third  of  the  night 
came  not  before  he  was  on  the  top  of  the  palace  of 
his  father-in-law.  Then  the  'Efreet  said  to  him, 
"  Alight."  He  therefore  alighted.  And  the  'Efreet 
said  to  him,  "  Open  thine  eyes ;  for  this  is  the  palace 
of  thy  father-in-law  and  his  daughter."  Then  he 
left  him  and  departed.  And  as  soon  as  the  day 
shone,  and  the  alarm  of  the  young  man  subsided, 
he  descended  from  the  roof  of  the  palace ;  and  when 
his  father-in-law  beheld  him,  he  rose  to  him  and 
met  him,  wondering  at  seeing  him  descend  from  the 
top  of  the  palace,  and  he  said  to  him,  "We  see 
other  men  come  through  the  doors,  but  thou  comest 
down  from  the  sky."  The  young  man  replied, 
"  What  God  (whose  perfection  be  extolled,  and 
whose  name  be  exalted!)  desired  hath  happened." 
And  when  the  sun  rose,  his  father-in-law  ordered 
his  vizier  to  prepare  great  banquets,  and  the  wedding 


192  OEIENTAL  FOLKLORE   TALES. 

was  celebrated ;  the  young  man  remained  there  two 
months,  and  then  departed  with  his  wife  to  the 
city  of  his  father.  But  as  to  the  cousin  of  the 
damsel,  he  perished  by  reason  of  his  jealousy  and 

envy. 


,7/^'^ 


Printed  by  T.  and  A.  Constable,  Printers  to  Her  Majesty, 

at  the  Edinburgh  University  Press. 


